Fun Lovin’ Criminals: a gang from the Bronx gets lost in Belgium
It was one of those evenings when the calendar lied: outside, the last, dubious warmth of a summer that no longer believed in itself still lingered, and by the time the first notes rang out through De Velinx, it already felt just as much like autumn. Upon arrival, the police were already writing tickets in the car park, an FLC quote could not have invented it better.
Because let’s be honest: De Velinx is not the place where you expect Fun Lovin’ Criminals. A respectable cultural centre in Tongeren, Belgium, where the subscription performance or chamber orchestra would normally shine, not a New York funk-rap outfit on tour as ‘Fun Lovin’ Criminals Orchestrated’. Yet there they were, on Friday evening, 18 September.
The hall was not filled to the last seat, but neither was it empty, and that in-between state gave the whole thing a strange geometry: the stage seemed almost larger than the space where the audience sat. The band and accompanying musicians had settled right at the back, with a small five metres of bare boards in front of them, as if they themselves were still figuring out how they fitted into this setting.
Even more striking was the audience: little of the jaded club loyalty, mostly Tongeren itself, technicians, construction workers, logistics, a touch of front-of-house staff and perhaps someone in judicial robes from the courthouse, all neatly seated in their chairs. You could almost guess what Naim, Frank and Brian were thinking: if the aim was to reach an unlikely new audience, they had already achieved that part of the mission here.
You can argue about the ‘Orchestra’ in the tour name: The DiFontaine Orchestra, led by violinist-arranger Lizzie Boyce, turned out to be mainly a compact string ensemble with a bassist and a percussionist-cum-saxophonist; it was more of a chamber ensemble than a full orchestra. Smart, in difficult times for live music, and it worked: Leiser, Benbini and Cortazzi were given just enough breathing space to give their club bangers a completely different life.
That cinematic inclination was not new. With their side project ‘Uncle Frank’, Benbini and Cortazzi had already delved deeper into that same world, with the rediscovered ‘lost album’ ‘The Soundtrack to a Musical’, a tribute to Disney’s golden years; described by Benbini himself as ‘Disneyland meets Al Green in Last of the Summer Wine’. Tellingly, that album was released on ‘Make It Nice Records’, coincidentally also the title of a song from this evening.
The band opened immediately with a highlight. ‘Scooby Snacks’, this time as ‘(20mg Redux)’, was given a new outfit: the club banger proved ideally suited to an arrangement with more breathing space, in which the strings laid an open, airy layer beneath the groove. That groove remained intact, but it felt as though the band had moved in one fell swoop from a stuffy basement in the Bronx to a rooftop terrace overlooking Central Park. The audience immediately understood what it was about.
Via a smooth and chic middle section: ‘Little Bit Further’, ‘Love Unlimited’, ‘Make It Nice’, ‘King of New York’, came the second highlight: ‘There Was a Time’, in which guest singer Úna Palliser took over. No stranger: the violinist and singer from Cork had previously played for, among others, Elbow, Julian Lennon and The Killers. On the album ‘Loco’, this song is driven by a sample of Wilma Burgess; live, Palliser filled that role, with exactly the right, wistful tone. A beautiful guitar solo further on definitively consigned any false nostalgia for former guitarist Huey to oblivion: these Criminals are the real deal.
After ‘Hot City Nights’, ‘All Across the Lands’, ‘Loco’ and ‘Shake It Loose’, which finally got the audience to their feet, and the languidly extended ‘Lovers Rock’, came the final highlight: ‘Ballad of NYC’. The studio version already contains beautiful strings, carried by a lightly grooving wah-wah guitar and an insistent beat, and that translated excellently live. The piano repeatedly evoked a Dr. Dre production, while the melody made a tongue-in-cheek reference to ‘Moon River’, Andy Williams’ version of the song from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Another cinematic reference, as if the band wanted to underline that this cinematic ambition was no coincidence.
The encore was short but effective: first ‘The Fun Lovin’ Criminal’, a nod to who they once were, and then a tender finale with their cover of ‘We Have All The Time in the World’ by Louis Armstrong.
Conclusion: despite a hall that was not filled to capacity and an oversized stage, this was a particularly successful performance. Fun Lovin’ Criminals proved that, after thirty years of club bangers, there is a whole other dimension hidden in their repertoire, one that revolves around space, arrangement and, ultimately, film. From the reborn ‘Scooby Snacks’ via Úna Palliser’s guest appearance to the cinematic flair of ‘Ballad of NYC’: this band showed that they have much more to offer than sultry clubs playing out of proportion. A curious evening in a curious place, which precisely because of that proved what they are still good for.
