Review: ZZ Ward brings her moody blues to Union Transfer
The blues are a funny thing. They can come out of every emotion or circumstance; any state, city, or suburb. For gusty, gutsy, Abington-born ZZ Ward, 29, the hard blues came when her musician dad moved the family to Oregon when she was 6. He starting taking young ZZ on tour and into clubs to sing with his roadhouse ensemble. The current Los Angeleno brought that romantic style of living to the stage of Union Transfer on Sunday night.
The blues are a funny thing. They can come out of every emotion or circumstance; any state, city, or suburb. For gusty, gutsy, Abington-born ZZ Ward, 29, the hard blues came when her musician dad moved the family to Oregon when she was 6. He starting taking young ZZ on tour and into clubs to sing with his roadhouse ensemble. The current Los Angeleno brought that romantic style of living to the stage of Union Transfer on Sunday night.
There was always a distinct sass and swagger to Ward's bravura-filled blues, and a voice that creaked, snarled, and quavered like a blend of Billie Holiday and Rikki Lee Jones.
Yet there was something aching and sad in the manner of songs like "Charlie Ain't Home" - a tribute to Etta James' classic "Waiting for Charlie" - beyond the usual my-man-is-gone lyricism. There was a doomed vulnerability to Ward's voice, as though Charlie wasn't ever really there to begin with.
The midriff-baring singer's rhythm section used its share of souped-up synth-snares, electronic sub-bass tones, and click tracks on new songs such as the puckish "Lonely" and the galloping "Rescue."
Ward's raw crackle played nicely with the pop-bluesiness of her material, new and old. The tick-tocking soul-lite of "Love X 3" and its wee gospel reverie gave the crowd a clap-along moment, as did the thick tribal thump of "Put the Gun Down."
For all the adornment provided by her taut trio, Ward was best when the sound was stripped to the bone, like in the dirty blues rock-out on Nick Jonas' "Chains," or the quartet's acoustic-guitar-driven moments. "Ride or Die" was an aching, slick country cut filled with Cadillacs and cigarettes imagery, a "woop-woop" chorus, and a sample of KRS One's "Sound of Da Police." Ward even pulled out a harmonica to blow on "OVERdrive" and "If I Could Be Her," spare and sexy acoustic turns that were showcases for Ward to sing as tender-tough as Amy Winehouse and Bonnie Raitt. Why ZZ Ward isn't a pop princess is beyond me, but the gig showed that she's surely on her way.