It was a warm spring night on Saturday, May 10, and the line to get in the door at Constellation was spilling out onto the sidewalk. The headliner for the evening was Family Junket, a Chicago musical collective with performers on strings, brass, percussion, guitar, and vocals. Their mission is to make music for their “extended family,” according to the group’s website. Throughout the night, people asked me over and over again, “Who do you know?” I met teachers, girlfriends, and proud aunts — everybody there to support Family Junket’s first album release. Everybody there for the party, and everybody ready to dance.
Opening for Family Junket was Chicago’s own Akenya. Her resume reads like a who’s who of the Chicago scene, including collaborations with Noname and Mavis Staples. Expectations were high as she took the stage, sitting at a crisp black Yamaha with just a spotlight and a microphone.
Akenya’s deep, resonant voice has a timeless timbre reminiscent of the old jazz greats. Everything about her piano technique was light, precise, and pearlescent, but her singing voice pierced through the entire room. Her set began with two covers, including a slowed-down take on Lady Gaga’s recent single, “Disease.” These showed off her impressive command of vocal play, especially her highly ornamented runs, and the crowd broke into spontaneous applause more than once.
After that triumphant opening, showcasing the full extent of her vocal range, the transition to Akenya’s original songs felt a little disappointing by comparison. Her approach to songwriting is melodically innovative and rhythmically clever, but because these songs were written to stay within a two-octave range and included so many sharp glottals, the music felt like it was working at cross purposes with the strengths of her voice. That said, “Fractals (Samsara)” was absolutely gripping; here, Akenya left space in the piece to dazzle on the piano with syncopated whirlwinds of high-speed notes.
There was a short break between sets so the piano could be moved off stage for Family Junket. Chatter overheard: “do not let any more people inside!” Hugs, backslaps: “I haven’t seen you in FOREVER!” Family Junket took the stage, dressed in colorful statement outfits. One of the three lead vocalists pulled up to the mic, and said, “if you have a white plastic chair, grab it and move it. Because tonight, we need space to move!” And with that, the concert hall transformed into a dance floor.
The first songs were grounded in neo-soul, with echoes of Jon Batiste, late night bands, and praise. Then, in a blink, the music dissolved into percussive scat. The band asked the crowd to scat at speed with them, and they did. “This is so fun,” laughed singer Rahila Coats, and the crowd laughed with her. The energy level in the room was electric.
After that intro, Family Junket launched into pieces off their new album, Did you tell the bees?, released just one day prior. A troupe of modern dancers began unfurling into the small space between audience and stage, creating a bridge with their bodies that arched across the two ends of the room. The dancing was sinuous and powerful, reflecting the music completely. Family Junket announced afterwards that these were dancers and friends from House of Dov. The dancers stayed in the front row of the audience, bouncing, bopping, and reveling in the music whenever they weren’t performing, infecting the rest of the crowd with the urge to move.
Each instrumental section got a turn in the spotlight throughout the evening. The two percussionists (Jonah Lazarus on a drum kit and Hasani Cannon on bongos and cowbells) traded solos back and forth, crescendoing and de-crescendoing in waves. Later on, the two string players (Scott Daniel on violin and Wilfred Farquharson on viola) and the flutist (Max Lazarus) played a sweetly melodic trio, one that wouldn’t have felt amiss in a classical space. And then at other times everything completely broke down, with the band howling, wailing, and baying like wolves and everyone dancing to the sounds of screams and tornado sirens.
Then, like the flip of a switch, the cacophony would stop, and Family Junket would lock right back into their smooth, soul sound. The message was clear: we may look wild, but we’re in complete control.
Before the end of the evening, singer Rahila Coats spoke to the politics of the moment. Before the concert, Family Junket had been selling keffiyehs — traditional Palestinian scarves symbolizing resistance — outside the front door. Coats urged the crowd to support Palestine, Sudan, and “our people in Chicago. And us.” She spoke broadly about the political grief of this moment in America and the funding crisis impacting the adjoining venue, Links Hall, now slated to permanently close. Coats urged the crowd to lean into community in these moments. “Dig deep with your roots,” she said, “so you can reach across and hold someone else.”
Fittingly, the next piece was dedicated to “Bette Davis and every Black, bad motherfucker who let themselves be angry when it was so unsafe to be angry.” Here, vocalist Clarence Young broke out into the first rap of the evening. For the “final” song — “a funky song!” — Family Junket invited Akenya back on stage to improvise a vocal addition, and she was game. But of course, the crowd demanded an encore. “It’s a party, ‘bout to bring it all back!” The band and the crowd whooped together. One by one, musicians sauntered off the stage and joined the dance floor. Finally, everyone was left grooving to the percussion and the bass guitar. And then, with a grin, they stopped. And the joy in the room exploded into cheers.
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