Cafe Nine on State and Crown was the spot Tuesday night for three young New Haven-based acts who brought genuine affection to the stage — for one another, for the audience, and for the Elm City itself.
First to the mic was Moshyura. With a raspy voice that he used to croon and spit rhymes in equal measure, a driving, intricate, and possibly unique guitar style, and a friend on cajón, he tore through a set of searing originals that brought the audience to its feet. At the end of his third ferocious song, Moshyura called the three-song opener a “gauntlet, because it’s hard.” But the next songs only kept up the blistering energy, the angular guitar bouncing off the thundering cajón. But underlying all of it was joy.
“I try to write shit that’s fun to play,” he said toward the end of his set. “Here’s one I totaled my car for, to play it at a TV station. Would totally do it again.
“I’m a rapper based in New Haven but I’m also an organizer,” Indigaux began by way of introduction, saying they were putting together a festival soon that was intended to focus on the Black, Brown, and queer pioneers of punk. It would be a chance for people to “come and celebrate themselves, celebrate their history, in love and light. That’s what I’m about, and that’s what Love ‘N Co is all about.” From their platform shoes, and underneath their enormous wig, they smiled and introduced their first song.
“It’s called ‘Elm City Bitch,’ ” they said. “I love New Haven, even though it grinds my gears sometimes.”
What followed was a set of electrically high-energy performances, funny, biting, and joyously relentless. As a beatmaker Indigaux had a talent for spacious, angular rhythms off-kilter yet totally danceable. Their real message was as much in the way they delivered it, at the edge of their voice, declarative, emotional, changing tones almost word for word. The crowd screamed its appreciation for what they brought to the stage, and Indigaux threw it right back.
“It’s such a pleasure performing here again. I love Cafe Nine,” they said. Having hyped up the audience, they offered one piece of advice before Love ‘N Co took the stage. “You’d best get some water because you’re going to want to dance.”
Indigaux wasn’t wrong, as Love ‘N Co hit the stage with a song right out of the gate that got people moving. With a rock-solid rhythm section to back them up, the core of Love ‘N Co — singer Lovelind Richards and guitarist Lamar Smith — pulled out one original after another that made deft use of Richards’s sweet yet powerful voice and Smith’s intricate, varied instrumental work, creating a set of shifting moods and emotions that kept the ear hooked. Every song ended in huge cheers from the crowd, and Richards’s laughter.
After a several-song workout, Richards declared that she wanted to turn down the energy just a little for a moment.
“I would like for us to keep checking in on our friends,” she said. “The whole reason I’m standing in front of you right now is that a friend checked in on me.” The audience was there to support her in her vulnerability, turning it into a strength. “Sometimes you got to write a really sad song, so that’s what I did,” she said. The crowd went with her, cheering as the song built to its climax.
Someone shouted “encore!” already even though Richards hadn’t announced it was their last song yet. She emphasized again the importance of making everyone feel welcome and included. “My motto is, if it’s not safe for one of us, it’s not safe for all of us.”
The band ramped its set up again for a string of poppy, infectious dance numbers. In the communal sharing of feelings and moves, Love ‘N Co made good on the promise of its name.