Music Unites Hosted an Evening With Chester French

Friday evening at the unfortunately titled but beautifully designed Red Bull Space, an invitation-only crowd gathered to support Music Unites, a non-profit organization dedicated to providing exposure to emerging and underexposed musicians. MU hosts live performances to raise awareness (and funds) and cultivate appreciation for different types of music, and it just so happened that on this particular rainy New York night the act of honor, so-to-speak, was Harvard-educated pop rock duo Chester French. This girl couldn’t have been happier, what with my crippling penchant for redheads, not to mention those special gingers hailing from my home state of Wisconsin. (Lead vocalist and songwriter D.A. Wallach lives a mere two hours from my folks. I may relocate…) With him was his other half, multi-instrumentalist and songwriter Maxwell Drummey, a Boston native, who modestly manned the acoustic guitar as Wallach reigned over the 3,000 square foot room.

The event was on the early side (8-10 p.m.) but nevertheless attracted a long line of folks clamoring to get in on the action. Half an hour behind schedule, as per usual, I bypassed impatient queue-dwellers and swiftly climbed the stairs. I entered the dimly-lit, white-walled space to find the party well on its way. DJs spun everything from Kid Cudi’s “Day ‘n’ Night” and Felix Da Housecat’s Nina Simone “Sinnerman” remix to old school La Bouche’s “Be My Lover” and Big Pun’s “Still Not a Player.” It was an eclectic playlist to say the least. The wait for drinks proved mildly absurd, but nothing beats a free vodka cran once in hand. Besides, from where I was standing, I had a clear view of the V.I.P. area. Recognizable names in attendance? Band Tamarama’s Nick “Pottsy” Potts (you may recall his baby face and blond locks from MTV’s The City), his model girlfriend Jessica Hart and, perhaps most peculiar, Nelson Mandela’s grandchildren! Also on the scene was someone I’ve bumped into a few times before, pretty boy DJ Artie K.

Around 9:15 p.m., give or take, MU founder and executive director Michelle Edgar said a few words about her org and welcomed the main attraction. The CF men entered to ample applause, Wallach in white pants, black blazer and bright blue Adidas sneaks, Drummey donning skinny jeans, a v-neck tee and a hunter-orange hat. Wallach haphazardly dropped his backpack, retrieving his tambourine, as Drummey settled onto his stool. Before embarking on their seven-song set, Wallach took a moment to remind the audience that not only were Vivienne Westwood shoes up for auction, among other things, but so too was he. And Drummey. And Edgar. Bidding began at $500 I believe, but don’t quote me. Oh to be able to afford a date with Wallach. Sigh. Nothing like a high I.Q. and red curls to get me going.

The guys opened with “The Jimmy Choos,” one of two songs they sang that referenced high-end fashion designers. The next was the following number, “Bebe Buell,” which called attention to Christian Dior. For this second song Wallach encouraged clapping; “Hands up!” The following number he introduced as “…a song about M.I.L.F.s.” Cute. The fact that a significant portion of the people continued to chatter in back was somewhat frustrating, but that didn’t stop avid fans from making the most of this special appearance.

Wallach snapped his fingers and beat the tambo against his hips whilst singing their fourth ditty, “I’m Not Over You.” After this he added that, if you win the D.A. date, “…sex is included.” Admitted motto? “In it to win it.” Again, wish I were rich. Next up they blessed us with their red-hot single, “She Loves Everybody,” an addictive track about safe sex. They wound down with “C’mon (On My Own)” and “Fingers.” All of these danceable ballads can be found on their recently released LP Love the Future (April 21, 2009, Star Trak/Interscope). The closing song proved inspiring, in so much as it instigated the removal of a neck brace by an overzealous, suspenders-sporting front row CF aficionado. Needless to say, I laughed a little, but definitely appreciated his uninhibited ardor.

After their charismatic (on behalf of Wallach) yet understated (on behalf of Drummey) show, they exited the pint-sized stage and made way for more turntable action. Guests mingled and drank until after 10, Michael Jackson’s “P.Y.T.” and Salt ‘n’ Pepa’s “Push It” bringing the event full circle. Around quarter-after the lights came up and the spot abruptly turned from full-fledged funhouse to awkward post-party push, security gruffly ushering everyone down the stairs and out the door, into the now monsoon-sopped street. Luckily for Chester French and their adoring devotees, Saturday brought nothing but sunshine, so those CF followers who missed out on the SoHo soiree could catch them rocking out at the Central Park Summerstage. I skipped it due to too late a night at Webster’s weekly Girls & Boys shenanigans (post-post-Red Bull Space), but word on the street is they and Q-Tip drew –- and wowed –- an incredible crowd, numbering over 5,000!

Photos by Jerritt Clark