Band Needs Main Squeeze for Full Effect : Little Joe Low on Spice Until Accordion Found for 2nd Set

Imagine what might befall the art of Mexican cookery if some terrible blight suddenly eradicated the world supply of hot peppers.

Nearly that much spice went out of the Tejano music of Little Joe & La Familia after a button accordion was lost or stolen Thursday during a bus ride through Texas.

The hazards of mass transit left ace player Lalo Torres without an instrument for the opening set of the band’s gig Friday night at the Galaxy Concert Theatre. Despite the presence of two strong singers (bandleader Little Joe Hernandez, a sturdy-voiced, indefatigable trouper, and his brother, Rocky) and sharp soloists on guitar, saxophone and keyboards, the nine-man ensemble from Temple, Texas, could only muster a homogenized facsimile of its boundary-hopping stylistic blend.

Some organic essence was missing without the accordion, an earthy attachment to traditional Mexican folk music that is vital given Little Joe’s penchant for mixing in such polished, less distinctive elements as synthesized strings and digitalized horns.

Luckily, after a long intermission, a substitute accordion was found in time for the second set, and La Familia was whole again. Torres’ dancing accordion fills, dizzy skids and enlivening, breeze-like blasts of merriment rubbed off on the entire band, yielding a generous, 85-minute second set.

Where there had been strong effort and tight proficiency, but no special spirit, there was now the musical embodiment of freedom and playfulness. Steve Silvas, a fine keyboard player, was able to double Manuel Castaneda’s saxophone parts or supply unusually rich-sounding synth strings, rather than trying to substitute an organ-synthesizer where only a real accordion would do.

The music that Little Joe, 55, has been playing for more than 30 years is grounded mainly in Mexican tradition, yet it is definitively American in its non-purist, anything-goes willingness to sample a little of this, and a little of that.

The evening offered originals by Hernandez in both Spanish and English. There was a sentimental ballad by Mexican songwriter Jose Alfredo Jimenez, a Willie Nelson number, “Amor, Amor, Amor” sung in Spanish, Waylon Jennings’ country tune “Good Hearted Woman” and an R&B; oldie, “Lonely, Lonely Nights.”

There was a jazz-pop sax showcase for Castaneda that would have fit into a concert by Najee or Kenny G. On Tex-Mex numbers, Castaneda would be blowing Mariachi-style broad, sustained notes one moment, and taking an R&B; solo the next. There were plenty of lively folk-song polka rhythms to keep the dance-floor hopping. There was a bit of salsa and South American cumbia rhythms and a couple of show-bizzy big-band flourishes that practically screamed “Heeeere’s Johnny” to accompany Little Joe to and from the stage.

Little Joe’s stage patter (mostly in English, while the great majority of his singing was in Spanish) spanned risque jokes, autobiographical reflections (the show included two affectionate songs about his father’s hard life), and a concluding admonition urging political engagement by “la raza” in the ’96 elections.

The ultimate effect was a sprawling, 3 1/2-hour variety show (counting the hourlong intermission) that had no real shape or sense of progression. Instead, it was defined by Hernandez’s tirelessness and his band’s ability and well-honed energy--all of which came across in the best light once that magical missing ingredient, the humble squeeze box, was found.