O.C. POP MUSIC REVIEW : Dr. John Finds the Old Medicine Still Effective

It was the same old hoodoo Friday night at the Coach House when Dr. John shuffled his way on and off the stage. Those hoping that John (a.k.a. Mac Rebennack) would focus on his new, funked-up recording “Television” might as well have stayed home channel surfing.

Instead, the good doctor’s first set covered the usual ground, with only a few surprises. Yes, he did the new album’s title tune, a too-much-sex lament (“Out the bedroom/it’s all null and void/Be cheaper to sleep with Sigmund Froid/How come we never watch television?”). And he gave Berry Gordy’s “Money (That’s What I Want),” also from “Television,” a perfunctory treatment. But all in all, this was generic John.

And that was just fine with the sold-out audience, who heartily welcomed everything from his trademark opener “Iko Iko” to his encore, Leadbelly’s “Goodnight Irene.” It may not have been his most polished performance--he jumped into the vocal of “Didn’t He Ramble” ahead of the band, then started again when they caught up--but, like all John’s concerts, it was alive with snakey rhythms, instrumental highlights and fun, fun, fun.

“Well, all right,” as John would say after nearly every tune.

Actually, funk took a back seat to jazz during the show, thanks to a distinguished three-piece horn section and John’s own piano musings. The horns--John’s longtime associate Alvin (Red) Tyler on tenor sax, trumpeter Charles Miller and baritone saxophonist Ronnie Cuber, whose long list of credits includes trombonist Slide Hampton, bandleader Woody Herman and saxophonist Lee Konitz--seemed to compete for attention as they dropped references from one jazz standard after another into the improvisations.

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Cuber especially was adept at allusion, with most of his drops being pulled from “Porgy and Bess” (“Summertime,” “It Ain’t Necessarily So”). Tyler at one point played several lines from “Nature Boy,” and Miller appropriately inserted veiled hints of “When the Saints Go Marchin’ In” during “Didn’t He Ramble.”

John’s most involved moments at the keyboard came during Duke Ellington’s “In a Sentimental Mood,” and he delivered “My Buddy” with a sweet, jazz-ballad approach, colored by mellow choruses from the horns. Overall, his trademark, barrel-house piano style was rich with bluesy embellishments and punctual chordal play that stepped aggressively to the band’s rhythmic marches.

Dressed conservatively in dark shirt, tweed jacket and beret, the doctor sauntered out from behind the keyboard and strapped on a guitar for “Wang Dang Doodle” (John began his career as a session guitarist, recording with Joe Tex and Professor Longhair, among others). His chop-a-block solo, as twisted as a bayou waterway, reached a dynamic climax as the horn section came riffing in from behind.

Well, all right.

At the heart of the rhythm section was drummer Herman Ernest III, whose cymbal decorations and clipped pacing kept the beat wonderfully off-center. His strength during the funkier numbers left one wondering what he would have done with such tunes as “Spaceship Relationship” or Sly Stone’s “Thank You (Fallentin Me Be Mice Elf Again)” from the beat-minded “Television” program.

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Weighed against the album, John’s live performance underlined his strengths. “Television” relies too much on funky, almost commercial rhythms, and the backbeat becomes a bit tedious as the 11-tune collection progresses. By the time the recording reaches the halfway mark with Rebennack’s “Shut D Fonk Up,” the listener can’t help but wish that John would take his own advice.

John’s wide embrace of blues, jazz and traditional New Orleans sounds, as aired at the Coach House, makes for a varied and interesting program. Still, with such a wealth of material at his fingertips, he shouldn’t rely on the same old numbers.

But he definitely should continue to educate audiences, as he does with his between-number pattter. His tale of how Leadbelly was sprung from jail on the strength of his composition “Goodnight Irene” caused at least one youthful fan in the audience to ask, “Who’s Leadbelly?” Now that’s a question worth pursuing.