For the Jerks, you need only slap down $2 at the Bramhall Pub on any given Thursday. Similarly, for years, you needed only to head down to the Big Easy on a Tuesday night to catch all the big-band funk/jazz/soul you could handle from the acknowledged best dance band in town.

That which is easy to acquire has ever been cheaply had and little valued.

Lately, however, Sly-Chi have stepped up their game. In addition to the three-hour guest-filled extravaganza at the Big Easy that served as the CD-release show for The Space, the band’s second full-length release, the band also played release shows at NYC’s Bitter End and the Rusty Nail in Stowe, Vermont, as they work to build their brand and appeal throughout the Northeast. And they’ve left Tuesday nights behind (it’s somewhat ironic, actually, that Band Beyond Description have taken up residency on Thursday nights at the Big Easy again; it was they whom Sly-Chi supplanted on Tuesday nights back in late 2000).

The band’s core from 1999 (playing Monday nights at the Basement — corner of Fore and Exchange, folks) remains: Tyler Stanley on keyboards; Brian Pierce on trumpet, flugelhorn, and occasional lead vocals; Matt Day on trumpet and flugelhorn; and Rafael Keilt-Freyre on bass and some lead vocals of his own. Also long with the band are Jay Desormeau on guitar and drummer David Henault. Somewhat newer are sax player Brian Graham and vocalist Kelly McKenna. Regardless, on The Space they sound like they’ve been playing together for decades.

While they do a lot of things well here, it is this band cohesiveness that consistently shines through tunes that reference bands as diverse as the Commodores, the O’Jays, the Latin Jazz Orchestra, and the Revolutionary Snake Ensemble. They move effortlessly in and out of solos, everyone making their mark quickly, so songs that really breathe still often manage to clock in under four minutes and the proper 10 tracks together finish under 40.

The improper track is a 40-second intro that finishes with a whistle blowing, and Sly-Chi bolt from there as sprinters from a starting line. “Reap What You Sow” features a give and take from Pierce and McKenna, slinging invectives, as the horns engage in tight runs leading to an all-stop that allows Stanley room to ease everyone back into a relaxed jam. After the second chorus the band drop away again to allow Henault’s time-keeping to support a great call and response between Pierce/McKenna and alternately male and female choruses of supporters.

“Cobblestones” goes more P-Funk All-Stars, especially in the guitar open, and McKenna impresses with a clean delivery of tight lyrics, but the band stretch belief at least a little with their assertion that “Portland is a funky town.” Funky smelling?

If there’s a failing here, I might pick on the lyrics, which can delve into the cliché and inelegant. “Turn out Fine” winds up like Michael Ray and the Cosmic Krewe covering Katrina and the Waves, with McKenna singing, “Sun was shining on me/And the clouds all went away/Everything was perfect except for on detail/You been acting harsh to me/Our friendship is growing stale.” Later it becomes known, “You just keep on talking shit, and baby it’s got to end.”

But literature and pulp both have their place and Sly-Chi ought not be judged by the least important element here.

Instead, revel in the Marvin Gaye devotion of “Never Too Hard,” where Pierce turns in his best vocals and the finish, with gang vocals of the chorus and Pierce’s emotive pop-ins, is exquisite. Admire their dexterity on “Something Crazy,” which opens thoughtful, dark, and minor, but manages to ramp up with a bass strut and find a place for dueling MCs Gemini Jones and J Sizzor: “Sly-Chi and Ill Nat/How crazy is that?”

Follow the directions in “Panza Verde.” Just “get up and dance.” Sly-Chi give you every opportunity and all the space you could ever need.

On the Web
www.slychi.com

Sam Pfeifle can be reached at sam_pfeifle@yahoo.com .