The room at the Blue Note began reserved. Damp acoustics. Measured applause. A slightly low vocal mic. The energy felt cautious.
Now signed to Death Row Records, Bereal represents a different dimension of that historic name. Not confrontation. Not aggression. This is love music. Musicianship music. Live band music built on feel.
Charlie Bereal is more than a frontman. He’s a multi-instrumentalist, singer, and songwriter whose falsetto throws you back to the early 1970s — warm, lifted, soulful — yet never derivative. The phrasing feels classic, but the identity is fully his own. He doesn’t imitate an era; he channels its spirit while maintaining his own sonic fingerprint.
On lead guitar, Bereal closes phrases with intention rather than excess. When he rounded out the night with a solo, it wasn’t about speed or spectacle. It was tone. Space. Emotional control. A warm landing that felt earned.
And then there’s Jairus Mozee — the multi-Grammy-winning producer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist known across genres. Holding down rhythm guitar for most of the night, he stepped forward for a solo that set the house on fire. Not because it was loud, but because it was precise. His phrasing carried both studio mastery and live conviction. When he leaned in, the room responded instantly.
Q on bass grounded the performance with quiet authority, anchoring every shift in arrangement and keeping the foundation solid.
What truly separated the rhythm section, though, was Taron Lockett’s texture on drums. It wasn’t flash. It wasn’t overplaying. It was touch. His snare and cymbal work carried a layered grain that added depth to the grooves. In a damp room where articulation matters, his feel created lift without forcing it. You could sense the architecture of the music through his hands.
The horns — Josef Leimberg on trumpet, Ryan Porter on trombone, and Sean Sonderegger on sax — melted into the pocket rather than attacking it. Warm. Blended. Intentional. They colored the music without crowding it.
Micheal BeReal’s organ added grit. Bennett Paysinger’s Rhodes softened the harmonic edges. When Cory Henry stepped in for a guest moment, it felt organic — musicians sharing vocabulary, not chasing applause.
There were no stems. No backing tracks. No artificial reinforcement.
Just listening. Just feel.
Adding to the weight of the evening, legendary West Coast producer DJ Battlecat and singer-songwriter Jane Handcock were in the audience — a quiet acknowledgment of the musical gravity in the room.
What made the night resonate wasn’t just individual talent, but collective depth. These are largely Los Angeles–rooted musicians who travel the world navigating funk, hip hop, jazz, folk, and rock — carrying that vocabulary with them and refining it on stages everywhere. At the Blue Note, that global experience distilled into something intimate and intentional.
Under a label once known for its harder edge, Charlie Bereal is carving out something rooted in groove, harmony, and love.
And at the Blue Note, that evolution felt real.
