January Becomes ​“Julai” At Cafe Nine

CT-based bands Julai and the Serotones and Esor Rose brought the heat to Cafe Nine on State and Crown on Friday night.

“We are Esor Rose, and you are a lovely audience,” said Tristan Sayah toward the beginning of Esor Rose’s set. The audience may have arrived ready to move, but the four-piece — Sayah on guitar, Nate Sears on bass, Jordan Aaron on drums, and Josh Berkeley on vocals — was more than up to the task of giving the dancers what they needed. 

Sears and Aaron were a rock-solid rhythm section, with Sears moving nimbly up and down the bass’s range to both deliver the rhythm and offer countermelodies. The band’s sound, however, was partly defined by the yin-yang of Sayah’s guitar, which leaned hard into rock territory, and Berkeley’s crooning vocals, rooted squarely in R&B. As Sayah unleashed energy, Berkeley projected cool, even as he delivered passion and emotion. The combination was infectious for the people on the floor in front of the stage, who moved to the beat, howled their applause, and by the end, seemed to respond to every gesture Berkeley threw their way. Esor Rose has already played Stella Blues, the Space Ballroom, and other venues further afield since clubs reopened in 2021; the band’s set at Cafe Nine makes them one to catch again.

The eight-piece band of Julai and the Serotones — T.J. Debicella on drums, Brad Griffith on guitar, William Durant on percussion, Tom Pelton on trumpet, Pete McEachern and Keegan Smith on saxophones, Nick Lenz on bass, and Julai on vocalist — then kept up the energy with a set of scorching dance tunes. Their style ranged from pop to funk to reggae, but every song had a rhythm to step to, and the audience did. The band utterly filled the small Cafe Nine stage, making their sound feel like a pressure cooker. Debicella, Durant, and Lenz were barely visible but totally audible, as their groove kept everyone moving. Griffith moved ably from rhythm to lead. The three-piece horn section filled out the song at every turn, whether laying down a lush bed of harmony, blazing away like a brass choir, or taking turns on acrobatic solos. Meanwhile, Julai was both commander of the microphone and hypewoman, a shining connection between music and audience. She kept the dancers riveted to the point that, during an extended instrumental, she was invited down to the dancefloor, an invitation she accepted. As she rejoined her band on the stage, the dancing kept going. It was a summery moment in the middle of January, and it seemed nobody was ready for the season to end.