Wrapped Up In Mic Cables

Artist Jordan Deal offered an avant-garde and unreserved opening performance for a touring bedroom act Monday night.

· 3 min read
Wrapped Up In Mic Cables
Jordan Deal at Johnny Brenda's. Ty Maxwell photo and video.

Tara Clerkin Trio, Jordan Deal
Johnny Brenda’s
1201 Frankford Ave.
Philadelphia
March 23, 2026  

Like the blind men and the elephant, the best I can usually hope for here is description, not a summary of the complete picture. Jordan Deal’s opening performance last night was challenging, complex work I couldn’t hope to summarize: provoking a nearly hour-long hush, punctuated by the occasional nervous laugh, Deal dealt in a mixture of song, spoken word, and extended improvisation on piano and harmonica, with pre-recorded Roland 404-stored sampled audio, weaving in and out of narrative and more impressionistic lyrics. Live performances from Deal are apparently a rarity – described elsewhere (and accurately) as employing “a unique blend of avant-theatrical and improvisational techniques,” with “themes of anomalies and hauntings.” Often singing in a grave, wailing style, moving deliberately both on and off the stage – even wrapping audience members up in one of their microphone’s long cables – Deal was a steady, gravitational force. The music was loose and dense, bleak and dissonant, and strangely ancient: rather than using more modern avant approaches – noise and distortion, especially – to mimic the world’s ugliness and violence, Deal held a still mirror to it. Mostly I thought of provocative, darkly theatrical works by artists like Scott Walker (particularly The Drift) with the grandeur of 20th-century classical, as well as Kurt Weill’s notion of Gebrauchsmusik, music with a political utility. (Nina Simone’s spirit was definitely in the room.)

Deal was mostly drawing from their 2024 song-suite Seas of Triple Consciousness, with stories vividly addressing oppressive forces and abuses of power. When the performance began I wasn’t sure what to expect – at first it seemed like music made by an especially intense person – but as it unfolded, realizing that this was more a theatrical, political body of work, the framework shifted and Johnny Brenda’s became more like a theater or gallery than indie rock hub; toward the end, I witnessed further challenges to de rigueur participant-spectator relations, with Deal singing at the edge of the stage while the crowd stood close below them, holding the guitar aloft as Deal played. Later, they crowd-surfed in the curiously-quiet room, the act stripped of its usual elation or somatic release, a familiar gesture cast in new, strange, question-raising light. The phrase, “Now that space is open–” was a recurring motif, and it gathered meaning through repetition: the stock interpretations inevitably yielded to new possibilities, including that openness can sound like a threat, that clearings open both through creation and destruction. Needless to say, Deal didn’t play it safe: this was art unafraid of transgression, provocative without dead ends.

The headliners, Tara Clerkin Trio, from Bristol, UK, brought things back to the usual JB’s base with a perfectly nocturnal set, pitched in mood somewhere like the mind-state of waking up in the middle of the night, disoriented but at peace. The group – Tara Clerkin (vocals, clarinet, guitar, live mixing), Sunny Joe Paradisos (drums, percussion, guitar) and Patrick Benjamin (keys, synths, melodion) – performed a kind of psychedelic bedroom electronica, slow and steady, reminiscent of Stereolab and Air. From a live-in-the-flesh perspective, Paradisos’ playing was the pinnacle: I loved watching him patiently build loops by holding an SM57 microphone to each drum, layering soft, cloud-like beats, hitting with such delicacy it was like he was trying to coax an escaped inside cat out of a neighbor’s hedge. 

Forthcoming new album’s lead single “Somewhere Good” highlighted the group’s intricate interplay, with criss-crossing dubby delays, like water rippling just slightly out of phase, remixing and reimagining patterns on the fly. What the music lacked in dynamism and volume – and I do think their overall mix, especially the vocals, could have been louder, more enveloping, or that the levels could fluctuate to keep the ear from settling – it made up for in subtle shape-shifting and sustained mood.