Allen Stone's Main Stage soul bonanza last night was the first show at Block Party that, for better or worse, made me feel like I was at an actual giant music festival. Teens grooved, pot smells wafted, and psychedelic light shows twirled while Stone's extremely proficient* backing band bwowowpdewdawdawed away (that's how you write out a really funky bass line).
Stone's soul picnic.
I'm not even going to pretend like Allen Stone isn't an adorable angel and the only long haired boy I am willing to write out a fedora permission slip for. I'm also not going to pull apart the meaning of re-appropriated soul music or who is allowed to sing what in what time period because I don't want to fall asleep forever and miss the rest of Block Party.
There is no denying Stone can SERIOUSLY SING—a pastor's son from Chewelah, Washington, I think he has the chops to become wildly popular with Aunts and tipsy slow dancing couples everywhere. Your ears will say Stevie Wonder while your eyes say Garth Algar and Pheobe Buffay finally had a baby!
*For all you organ dorks, a coool Hammond B3 with a rotating Leslie happily whirred up there.