PCC LIVE! Boss Hog

Lead singers carry a massive cross atop their beautiful, pristinely-sculpted shoulders.

When things aren't going well with the band, it's invariably their fault. They've got about the same job security as your average tiger handler. But when things start going right, they must constantly combat the bulging dimensions of their ego while at the same time dragging a band full of accomplished yet not-so-photogenic musicians behind them up the ladder toward the Big Sell-Out and all the teenybopper fans that implies. It's like being a Jedi--it's a hard life.

Current case-in-point: Cristina Martinez of Boss Hog. She's a totally righteous babe, which is great, but more than that, she seems to have an amazing lead-singerish attitude and presence, at least based purely on her recorded performances and the many photos of her that adorn all the band's paraphenelia. (And we're talking many, many photos--this is a band that has clearly been built around the stunning image of a gorgeous female lead singer, for better or worse.) All the beauty in the world won't help you if you ain't got the swagger, though, and Cristina seems by all outward appearances to have the swagger.

Only, she doesn't. At least, she didn't during her band's recent tour stop at Chicago's Metro nightclub. Maybe it was the mixer that was burying her voice amid the din of the band, or maybe she just has a weak voice. Martinez seemed to struggle to capture the evening over and over, and never quite got a grip around it. While she exhibited a certain charisma at times, her voice ended up sounding thin and occasionally off-key, which led to her trying way too hard to woo the audience. She's writhing around, she's in the crowd, she's crouching and jumping--and all in the service of a largely unexpressive and occasionally monotone set of pipes.

What made the spectacle interesting instead of just maudlin is that the band occasionally cooked, usually in spite of the lead singer. They just kept rockin' on behind her, laying down some nice grooves, while she flailed about. During a few moments when drummer Hollis Queens took over on lead vocals, everything in the band seemed to crystallize behind her rich, throaty wail, and the group's sound made a lot more sense. Sadly, then it returned to Martinez's hands, and they lost direction yet again.

This might be a case where it's time to send Martinez to Lead Singer Training School for her Master's degree. Or maybe Boss Hog needs to fire their sound mixer and find someone who can highlight Martinez's vocals properly. Or hell, maybe everyone was just having a bad night and they rawked their next tour stop ten times as hard. Whatever the reason, if this is all Martinez has to offer as a lead singer, then one has to wonder just how much further Boss Hog can be dragged behind her occasionally capable, yet often failing, charms.

Fortunately, opening act Delta 72 more than made the evening worthwhile. These guys are an indie Aerosmith/Led Zeppelin/late Beatles type band, packed full of traditional rock/soul/funk flava and boasting the kind of lead singer that could--and should--fuck just about any woman he wants. He's got Pete Townshend's nose, Chris Thompson's hair and Mick Jagger's ass. He even climbed atop a large stack of amps and did an Eddie Vedder meets Blues Brothers kinda rap. Good stuff. I know this isn't kosher in most rock circles, but maybe it's time for the opening act to start teaching the headliner a few lessons in leadsingerology on this tour.