Retro style suits Kravitz well

"I want you to concentrate on the positive side of things," Lenny Kravitz said, late in last night's stellar performance at the Hard Rock Joint. To insure a universal mindset, he played one of the best sets the venue has ever seen, a set virtually brimming with palpable grooves and positive thinking. From the first notes of "Live," Kravitz and his band -- a sharp eight-piece outfit -- got the crowd on their feet and kept them there. Concentration hardly seemed necessary.

To call Kravitz a product of '70s glam-rock and funk is perhaps underselling him: He may well be the ultimate product of those divergent styles, a living, breathing tribute to a time when Sly and The Family Stone followed Led Zeppelin on FM radio with nary a raised eyebrow. And with his denim vest, sunglasses and body art, he even looked like the '70s in all its rump-shaking, plastic-fantastic glory. He made it look so glamorous, and so easy, you have to wonder why others try to cop the style: Kravitz obviously has the lock on it, and it suits him to his shoes.

But Kravitz is more than the missing link between Don Cornelius' "Soul Train" and Don Kirshner's "Rock Concert." His instincts are contemporary, and even the most nostalgic of his hits -- the surprisingly affecting "It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over" -- is as current as today's news, twice as bright as today's weather.

When he gets into gear, Kravitz seems untouchable. "Super Soul Fighter," "Freedom Train," and "Rock and Roll is Dead" transcended their familiar recorded formats to become lengthy jams worthy of P-Funk. The energy level never flagged: when he reduced "Always on the Run" to drums and keys, you knew he was going to smack the coda a good country mile. And he did.

His band deserves equal credit. Drummer Cindy Blackman punched out a beat big enough to drive a truck through; guitarist Craig Ross shredded out Jimi Hendrix-informed fuzz chords and solos; keyboardist George Laks provided tuneful commentary throughout; and Jack Daley played some of the funkiest bass I've ever had the pleasure of feeling in my solar plexus. A horn section and backup singers did more than round out the sound; they fattened it to ripeness.

And he gave them much to do. It was "Let Love Rule" that inspired Kravitz' "positive side" plea, and he wasn't about to let the crowd revel alone. The band kept playing as Kravitz vanished from the stage, only to materialize in the balcony -- a venue first, as far as I know. He kept the crowd singing just by mouthing the words (he had no microphone), walked downstairs, and strolled through the capacity-plus crowd back to the stage as carefree as someone walking in the park. The band, unfazed, never lost a beat.

A tough, propulsive version of "Are You Gonna Go My Way" ended the set. Again, his pleading seemed redundant. After last night's stunning show, it seems remarkable that more people haven't taken Lenny Kravitz' high road, reaping the rich rewards yielded by every single step.

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