Ginsberg is back to read in a Village bar

Poet Allen Ginsberg stood waiting in the wings on the downstairs stage at the Village Gate—one of a handful of city night spots that has an historic link to the oral tradition.

He was there to perform pieces from The Lion For Real, his new CD collection of poetry read to music. Ginsberg has assembled a worthy crew of jazz and rock players for these sessions, including guitarists Marc Ribot, Arto Lindsay and Bill Frisell, saxophonist Ralph Carney and bassist Rob Wasserman. They constructed a dazzling array of backdrops for Ginsberg’s recitations, ranging from angular jazz freak-outs (“The Shrouded Stranger”) to clattering klezmer bursts (“Complaint Of The Skeleton To Time”) and meditative guitar washes (“Guru”).

Throughout the reading, Ginsberg talked with the audience, sharing anecdotes from his life, often while introducing his poetry. He played harmonium and song sticks on poems such as 'Put Down Your Cigarette Rag'. The audience, seated across the huge dancefloor and occupying every conceivable balcony and space in the venue, added to the atmosphere of the evening, applauding, joining in, laughing and enjoying his conversation and performance.

 Reading with a smile in his voice, Ginsberg takes on a variety of personas: the dadaist comedian (“The Lion For Real”), the hectoring crackpot (“Ode To Failure”), the enlightened Asian sage (“X-Mas Gift,” “The End”). From the nostalgic tenderness of “Aunt Rose” to the sexual shenanigans of “C’mon Jack,” he treads fearlessly through the far realms of flesh and spirit. 

After the performers cleared the stage and the audience headed out, Ginsberg sat drumming on a table in the corner--perhaps plaing out more poems with musical beats in mind. "It's a lot of fun to read to music," he said, twitching his head back and forth to pats on the shoulder, hands stuck out and voices calling his name. "But the poems have their own rhythms to begin with. The music doesn't really change anything."

The Lion For Real presents Ginsberg as zany, horny and impossibly wise all at once. The music, in a mixed jazz format, only lends depth to the spoked word.