LIVE: The Left Banke at Joe’s Pub, NYC (1/24/15)

When is a band no longer itself? How many group members can change while still maintaining its essence? It’s not unusual for long-lived vocal groups to have a high rate of turnover — think of all those soul and doo-wop acts still touring with one original member — but such changes tend to be gradual, like the human skeleton slowly regenerating itself once a decade. Likewise, there are examples of bands where a frontman may be the only constant over the course of a rambling career (Guns N’ Roses or the Fall, for instance), but these are dominated by a benevolent-ish creative dictator. (Even so, fans typically agree on a certain lineup as the “classic” one, anyway.)

What’s less common is to take the name of an established band and recruit almost an entire new group under the name. Such is the case with ’60s baroque pop-rock band the Left Banke, best known for the achingly beautiful hits “Walk Away Renée” and “Pretty Ballerina.” Five of the six members in the group’s current incarnation hadn’t even been born yet during the band’s classic era. The sole contact with the Left Banke’s origins is George Cameron, onetime drummer, sometime vocalist, and dogged keeper of the flame, who occupies the unusual position of being both the current group’s raison d’être, and — given that he no longer plays an instrument and contributes only the occasional stray vocal — its least-essential member.

Backstage @joespub working out harmonies on Renee with Ian Lloyd of Stories… #joespub #theleftbanke #walkawayrenee #ianlloyd #stories #nyc @Ian_Lloyd2010 @spiderolls @finneganshanahan @samkogon

A video posted by The Left Banke (@theleftbankeofficial) on Jan 24, 2015 at 8:32pm PST

This new lineup of the Left Banke debuted Saturday night at Joe’s Pub in Astor Place, Manhattan. The intimately sized club, tucked away in a corner of the Public Theater, is decked in thickly lacquered black columns and muted gold scrolling molding, a suitably rococo setting for showcasing the band’s Bach-inflected harpsichord riffs and winding violin. Given the venue’s location, it’s easy to think of the performance onstage as theater in itself, with the band onstage playing the part of the Left Banke in a reenactment of an ideal gig. Luckily, the new Left Bankers — Sam Kogon on lead vocals/guitar, Finnegan Shanahan on violin/harmony vocals, Stefan Paolini on piano/keyboards, Dan LeBrun on bass, and Tony Waldman on drums — pull it off with aplomb.

Over the course of an hour, the band played impeccable versions of 11 of the Left Banke’s hits and beloved non-hits (“She May Call You Up Tonight,” “Let Go of You Girl,” “Shadows Breaking Over My Head”). Midway through the set, the band were joined onstage by singer Ian Lloyd, who co-founded the ’70s rock group Stories with the Left Banke’s original keyboardist Michael Brown. The band ably shifted into a heavier, groovier gear as Lloyd led them through Stories’ two biggest hits, “I’m Coming Home” and “Brother Louie.”

After Lloyd left the stage, the band slipped back into the Left Banke’s delicate arabesques, closing out with a Cameron-led “I’ve Got Something on My Mind” before ducking offstage with one of the least convincing pre-encore walkouts in rock history. (As if a Left Banke show would ever omit “Walk Away Renée.”) Unusually — but appropriately enough for a revival — two of the night’s highlights, “Airborne” and “High Flyer,” were actually products of a previous Left Banke reunion in the early 2000s, yet displayed the same otherworldly exquisiteness as the best of the Banke’s ’60s material.

The new Left Banke’s arrangements are faithful to the recordings, but with a straightforwardness that eliminates the “tribute band” cheese factor. Kogon channels original lead singer Steve Martin-Caro’s yearning delicacy on ballads without lapsing into impersonation, and while the group defers to Cameron, they’re tight enough to stand on their own merits. Credit should also be awarded to the peculiar timelessness pervading much of the Left Banke songbook, which could just as plausibly be the product of a contemporary indie band as of psych-poppers from decades ago. (After all, nothing else on the radio sounded like “Pretty Ballerina” in 1966, either.)

There’s something to be said about seeing musicians in their prime play these songs, who are still capable of giving them the subtlety and ethereality they deserve. At the same time, however, it’s difficult to reconcile the existence of a Left Banke that doesn’t include Michael Brown on keyboards or Steve Martin-Caro on vocals, whose musical and songwriting contributions define the group to most fans. Ultimately, it comes down to the question at the start of this piece. The new Left Banke succeeds at capturing a good deal of the essence of what made the original great — frankly, more than would be expected, given the circumstances. Yet there’s still a vague sense of something missing, as diaphanous and indefinable as the haunting beauty of the Left Banke itself.

Sally O'Rourke

Sally O’Rourke works in an office and sometimes writes about music. She blogs about every song to ever top the Billboard Hot 100 (in order) at No Hard Chords. She has also contributed to The Singles Jukebox, One Week // One Band, and PopMatters. Special interests include girl groups, soul pop, and over-analyzing chord changes and lyrics as if deciphering a secret code. She was born in Baton Rouge and lives in Manhattan. Her favorite Nugget is “Liar, Liar” by The Castaways.