A few months ago, Con Brio guitarist Benjamin Andrews had a revelation: Con Brio is his favorite band—and not just his favorite among those bands that he’s played in—but his favorite in general. He’s making exactly the music he wants to make.

A lot of the recently buzzed-about R&B has sailed off to weirder, electronic places, but Con Brio’s lineage is clearer. The core rhythm section of keyboardist Micah Dubreuil, bassist Jonathan Kirchner and drummer Andrew Laubacher has been playing together since 2009, and after losing their previous singer last year, they added on Andrews and frontman Ziek McCarter.

A rotating horn section rounds out their more traditional instrumentation, but nailing down their sound isn’t too easy. They check funk acts Sly & the Family Stone and Billy Preston as influences, along with Stevie Wonder and neo-soul artist D’Angelo. Really, these guys just sound tight, completely put together, and Andrews knows it.

“I’ve never had such a complete package,” he says.

An integral part of the package is McCarter—Con Brio’s charismatic, multi-talented frontman. He can croon, he can wail and he’s got moves. He cites entertainers like Prince, Bob Fosse, and James Brown as the inspiration for his stage presence.

“I’ve been dancing since I was 2,” McCarter says. “I was kind of kid that would set up a camera, dance an hour straight and go back and watch it. I’m always asking, ‘How can I tell a story with my moves?’”

To get a sample of McCarter’s ability, go online and watch one of the band’s shows at San Francisco vintage-and-antique store, Viracocha. During a rendition of “Never Be the Same,” a song from their forthcoming EP, McCarter glides across the stage, executes spins, shimmies and at one point nails a perfectly timed drop split, James Brown-style.

McCarter’s impressive footwork compliments the invigorating power of songs like “Give It All” from their forthcoming EP, Kiss the Sun, (due out in January).The song is bursting at the seams with energy—especially when the triumphant horn section builds to McCarter’s high falsetto and Andrew’s wicked guitar solo.

McCarter says the song, co-written with Dubreuil, started out as an ode to a passionate long distance relationship before turning into a conduit for channeling the spirit of his father, who was shot and killed—while unarmed—by a police officer in 2011. “I was my father singing to my mother,” he says. “It transformed into a hybrid of both.”

“It’s ecstatic, man,” Andrews said. “Everybody is sweating half way through the intro and I don’t even know why. It’s not cardio, it’s energy.”

 Con Brio plays the Poor House Bistro in San Jose on Nov. 14.

Condy ChesnuTT, performing at Pagoda Lounge on Thursday, remembers the day in 2002 when his cousin, who was his manager at the time, received a call from the Roots, telling him they wanted to collaborate with him. Specifically, they wanted to cover ChesnuTT’s song “The Seed” and have him sing on the track. It was all very strange considering that he had never met the Roots and his one album, The Headphone Masterpiece, was an obscure indie release.

Flattered, ChesnuTT, who plays the Pagoda Lounge this Thursday, wasn’t sure how he felt about actually doing it. He was still reeling from a debacle with Hollywood Records, which had signed his previous group, the Crosswalk, recorded their album and subsequently dropped them without releasing it. Working with another major-label group didn’t seem like such a good idea.

“I had it out for the industry. [But] my cousin told me it would definitely be a good move to make, so I gave it a shot, and it worked out,” ChesnuTT says.

The Roots’ version, “The Seed 2.0,” became a single on the band’s Phrenology album and the only song to get major radio airplay. With a mix of Black Thought’s rapping and ChesnuTT’s vocal hook, it became an accessible neo-soul pop track with hip-hop street cred.
Oddly, the Roots later told him their label didn’t want ChesnuTT to sing on the song because he wasn’t well known enough; they wanted them to use Lenny Kravitz.

“That right there’s how the industry works,” ChesnuTT says ruefully.

The success of “The Seed 2.0” helped bump The Headphone Masterpiece into the Billboard 200. It was an album completely unlike anything out there—a long collection of Guided by Voices–style lo-fi and four-track recordings that jumped all over the place in the most chaotic and jarring ways possible.

It included psychedelic rock, soul, R&B, hip-hop, gospel and punk sounds—and songs that fell outside of any genre. Some numbers were just short little bursts of emotion, while others were long meandering pieces with friends doing spoken word. Others, like “The Seed,” were genius pop gems.

“I wanted to make a statement. It was an in-your-face kind of project. At that point in time, a lot of the bands were too polished. It was completely at the other end of the spectrum,” ChesnuTT says.

Despite the newfound attention, ChesnuTT didn’t immediately release a follow-up recording. He remained more or less silent for a decade, with the exception of an appearance on Dave Chappelle’s Block Party in 2006 and the release of the EP Black Sin No Value in 2010.
In the midst of promoting The Headphone Masterpiece, ChesnuTT became a father.

“I really embraced the fact that I had to change,” he says. “I took time to get to know what fatherhood was all about and make sure I was in the best space possible to raise another human being. I was re-evaluating myself. I just took time to grow. I didn’t think it was going to take 10 years.”

It was an understandable decision considering the chaotic mind frame he was in while recording The Headphone Masterpiece. “I was all over the place,” he says. “I was rooming with four other people. It was the epitome of the rock & roll lifestyle. You can see it on The Headphone Masterpiece. I had the presence of faith on that record, but there was a darkness—a worldy spirit that occupied my headspace as well.”

Part of changing meant taking his spirituality seriously, which is apparent on his new record, Landing on a Hundred, released last October.

Songs like “Till I Met Thee” and “Everybody’s Brother” express a profound spiritual transformation. But really, everything about the decidedly sweet and passionate Landing on a Hundred is different than The Headphone Masterpiece. Rather than capturing his unfiltered emotions, he gave himself a lot of time to consciously shape everything that he was expressing.

“I took the opportunity to really look at each lyric to be sure it was saying everything I needed it to say without saying too much,” he says. “I put a lot of thought into what I had to say.”

In order to make the best possible album, while still maintaining control, ChesnuTT funded the project himself. When he ran out of money, he turned to Kickstarter to help finish the project and was surprised by the response.

“It just blew me away that people would donate and give so much, especially in a time when people hate paying for a record, even $10,” ChesnuTT says. “But they gave $50–$100 dollars for the project. It shows you the love people have for music, the passion they put behind projects they believe in.”