Marc Ribot, legendary collaborator with artists such as Tom Waits, Elvis Costello, John Zorn, etc. Marc Ribot, jazz guitarist. Marc Ribot, bandleader. Marc Ribot of Ceramic Dog is not one of these things. The weekend is young, but tonight’s set will probably prove to be among the most raw and political of all the acts this year.

Musically, Ceramic Dog is a bit of an anomaly. Certain songs flitted from mood to mood, from genre to genre, like a bird. Other songs were protracted almost droning jams around a single guitar riff. The set was cohesive, but also felt like a set of contradictions. Not at all in a negative way. They didn’t come across as the most rehearsed or smooth band, there being various technical or communication difficulties between members throughout the set, but it also never felt like a set where polish was the goal. In fact, I can’t say for certain what the ultimate goal or statement of the set was. But strangely I feel like they achieved it, as nebulous as it seemed, and I think it is summed up by the simple word resistance.
Marc Ribot punctuated the set with extended spoken word sections, most of which railed against a laundry list of things from the specific and relatable to the avant-garde and absurd. But the theme of the outsider and of injustice ran throughout. His guitar was occasionally played virtuosically, but more often it was played like he was attacking a raw nerve, trying to kick its teeth in.

It was a set filled with dread and anger, the raging of one impotent to truly affect change but unable to resist the impulse to resist.

In addition to Marc Ribot himself, drummer Ches Smith deftly drove the sound forward with his multipurpose drumming, and multi-instrumentalist Shahzad Ismaily added a level of experimentation to the set which heightened the themes.

It is hard to say how well the lyrics landed with non-native speakers, but the spirit certainly did.