The magic number

Dan Blakeslee thrives in the rock trio

By Sam Pfeifle

The Dan Blakeslee 3 play Java Joe’s December 15 at 8 p.m.

DB3: Michael Venn, Jack Narcotta, and Dan Blakeslee.

Music has always been an outlet for emotions, from Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” to the Smashing Pumpkin’s Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness. For Dan Blakeslee, solo artist and head of the Dan Blakeslee 3, that emotion is predominantly happiness.

“He’s honestly the happiest person I know,” says Michael Venn, Dan Blakeslee 3 drummer, “which makes him a great friend and a great person to create music with.”

When you talk to Portsmouth-based Blakeslee — who plays Java Joe’s December 15 — he’s a bundle of energy, with a ready smile and a dramatic pose. He often drops his voice into a deep game-show announcer’s bellow, or chuckles like a cartoon character.

He came from a happy and musical household, getting him started playing early on. “Dad had tons of different projects,” says Dan. “He was always playing music in the house on Friday nights and Saturday mornings.”

Dan started his musical career playing the piano and singing, “but then I taught my younger brother some chords [on the piano],” he says, “and he stole it.”

It wasn’t until he got a Goya acoustic guitar for his 18th birthday that had found his instrument. On any given night in the Portsmouth area, whether it’s at the Blue Mermaid, Press Room, or the Dolphin Striker, you’re apt to find him switching back and forth between an electric and a Yamaha acoustic he got for $50. What’s the difference? “The electric has a lot of different energy to it,” says Blakeslee, in just the sort of unassuming way that draws people to him.

For his first full-length album, 1999’s Of Silver and Rust, released on his own Lightning Plug Records, Blakeslee gathered numerous members of the Portsmouth music scene as backup. Among them were the Gluestick (now based in Chicago), Andy Happel of Thanks to Gravity, even his dad on accordion.

Two of the musicians he pulled in — Michael Venn and Jack Narcotta, then playing with the jazzy Prajna — were soon permanent fixtures in the Dan Blakeslee 3, and their sound is vital to the newest release, Live at the Music Hall, for which the trio will be playing release shows at the Muddy River Smokehouse in Portsmouth, Boston’s Middle East, and CBGB’s in NYC through December.

It’s warm and entertaining, and sometimes uplifting, but it is not a straight-from-the-soundboard live recording, intended to sound as good as the studio with an improv feel. “I was supremely impressed with it,” says Narcotta, “considering Dan recorded it by placing a MiniDisc recorder in the balcony.”

Though the quality suffers a little, Blakeslee has chosen to include all the warts: his mumblings and tunings, his reference to Narcotta as the “Little Drummer Boy,” an attempt at beat boxing, and a threat to start breakdancing.

“I kind of like it when you can hear what’s going on in the entire room,” says Blakeslee. “After the last tune you can hear this little girl in the background. I always turn that part up, like ‘what’s she saying?’ ”

That finale is “Afraid of Love,” off Seven, a demo Blakeslee recorded after a man approached him during one of his appearances in the subway tunnels of Boston, and offered to record him for free.

On this tune, like many of the others included on Music Hall, it’s clear Blakeslee is used to playing by himself. His rhythm guitar is quick and full of melody, the basis for the song’s sound. And the vocals fill most of the tune without easily discernable breaks between verse, chorus, and bridge. Often, he breaks into soaring, Bono-like, vocal interpretations, using his voice adeptly as a fourth instrument.

Venn and Narcotta have a knack for enhancing the songs without treading on Blakeslee’s lead. Narcotta’s heavy-metal background makes for an active bass; he runs all over the fret board, pushing the pace of the tunes as Blakeslee’s thoughtful chords and lyrics threaten to turn each of the them into ballads.

Though, “in ‘Through December’ my bass lines are more reserved,” says Narcotta. “I thought it out like that because the song has a tremendous amount of emotional range and I needed to nail the minor chord, melancholy feel of the song without getting too ‘note-y’ and playing all over the place.”

In the same sense, Venn’s driving beat reminds the listener that these are pop songs, rock songs even, with an edge worthy of a second and third listen. “Mostly it’s Jack and me adding our own personalities to help accentuate Dan’s music,” says Venn. “And so far it seems to have worked.”

“Bes’ Parking Space in Town” is probably the most rockin’ tune here, with Narcotta’s surf bass, Blakeslee’s Roy Orbison vocals, and Venn keeping the thing from spiraling out of control into a Barenaked Ladies joke tune.

“Jonathan in Oregon,” an ode to Blakeslee’s oldest brother, is the most inventive. The song starts with Narcotta’s Morphine-like, ultra-low bass, finishing with Blakeslee repeatedly belting out the title, straight out of his gut with rare vocal power.

“When I found out that Dan wanted to release it as a live CD, I was a bit skeptical,” says Venn. “But after hearing it, and looking back on it, it was one of those nights when we were just on.”

Sam Pfeifle can be reached at spfeifle@phx.com.