Morris Day condensates at the State/ Star Tribune photos by Tom Wallace
Please check your clocks.
On the night on which we set our clocks back an hour, Morris Day, Jimmy Jam, Terry Lewis and company tried to turn back time by 30 years.
The Original 7ven — the band formerly known as the Time — reunited in their hometown Saturday night at the State Theatre to celebrate the release of their first album in 21 years. Instead of a concert showcasing new material (we got one song and snippets of one or two others), it was "Cool," "777-9311" and "The Bird." It was an evening of stylish suits, Minneapolis Sound funk and nostalgic fun.
But, as entertaining as the 90-minute performance was, it lacked the precision, attitude and hunger of the original Time and the crispness, consistency and spirit of this lineup's 2008 comeback concert at the Hotel Minneapolis. Saturday's under-rehearsed show even missed the free-wheeling party vibe that Morris Day & the Time manifested at the Minnesota State Fair in August.
Sorry to confuse you. Day fronts two different versions of the same band. He calls one the "touring band" (his group since 1996, with two other founding members but not Jam and Lewis, who were too busy producing hits for Janet Jackson and others) and the other "the originals" (featuring the seven guys Prince put together as the Time in 1981). Since Prince owns the rights to the name "the Time," the Minneapolis men who made the moniker famous were forced to use a different appelation for this year's album, "Condensate."
The new name, combined with steep ticket prices (ranging from $53 to $83) and Day's recent free State Fair appearance, resulted in more empty than occupied seats at the State Theatre. But the fans — who, like the performers, were middle-aged — got excited whenever Day decided to turn it on, Jesse Johnson unleashed his wondrous guitar or the band found an early '80s groove that Prince had composed for them.
Jerome Benton, Day's valet, was the only one who consistently lit up the stage. His nonstop energy, swiveling hips and Pepsodent smile were infectious. Johnson, with his impassive face and body language, looked bored the entire night even when he played some ferocious guitar (everything from Jimi Hendrix-ian rock to Buddy Guy-evoking blues to Princely funk).
