The lineup at the Tribeca/ASCAP Music Lounge was motley and remarkable: peaceful protest was made new, J.S. Bach was rocked on mandolin, and a gimpy virtuoso got lewd on the bass guitar.

From April 29th through May 2nd the Tribeca Film Festival and ASCAP collaborated to encourage interaction between musicians and filmmakers. Tuesday’s lineup was open to festival badge-holders and featured Nick Lowe, Brett Dennen, Chris Thile, Regina Spektor, and Ingrid Michaelson.

The show was held at the Canal Room. Even at three in the afternoon, this strange little venue was dark and intimate, with leather chairs pulled to a low stage to form rows of seats. Candles flickered while Jameson and Belvedere were served up with speed and finesse at the open bar.

 

I arrived during Nick Lowe’s set and was immediately won over by his earnest stage demeanor. “Here’s a new song,” he said, “they seem to like it out on tour.” A room of twenty-somethings, appreciative of the older man’s obvious talents, prematurely began to clap. “Wait, wait!” said Lowe, “Don’t clap yet, you still haven’t heard it.” We paid close attention as he strummed a warm and folksy tune about becoming an avid reader in the wake of a departed lover called “I Read A Lot.” We clapped, again. Lowe finished his set with his seventies hit, “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding.” The song resonated smartly with the crowd, who gave Lowe a standing ovation.

Next, Brett Dennen ambled onstage. A moon-faced, man-child sporting a green army jacket and mop of red hair, who played a set of slow and murmured songs, punctuated by ample slides and ringing harmonics. He ended his set on a political note, singing the refrain of his last song, “What will you do/ when the war comes home?”

 

I could write an ode to Chris Thile, whose musical mastery is comparable to that of Béla Fleck or Andrew Bird. A tall and scruffy figure, the erstwhile mandolinist of Nickel Creek has since gone solo and then founded a new band, The Punch Brothers, so-called for the Mark Twain short. Thile appeared with his mandolin in one hand and a tumbler of whiskey in the other. He put the drink at his feet and said, “It’s Tribeca! Which means it’s time for mandolins and copious amounts of Jameson.” He then set his hands to the mandolin, sending crowd into frenzy (we applauded multiple times before the first song was even over.) The image of flying fingers is a platitude which does no justice to the agility and playfulness with which Thile wields his instrument. His set included a plucky song entitled “(If You’re Going to Leave Me) Set Me Up With One of Your Friends,” and a stellar cover of the White Stripes’ “Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground.” “Now,” Thile said, “It’s time for a little J.S. Bach. Frankly, including this guy’s music in your movie is a steal.” He strummed the instrument once and then, as an afterthought, added, “Feel free to kick up your heels, because it’s a jig!” No lie, I saw multiple people tapping their feet to Bach. Thile finished with one movement of The Punch Brothers’ “The Blind Leaving the Blind.” The album is called Punch, and you should buy it. Today.

Attendance seemed to double upon Regina Spektor’s arrival. She limped onstage, smiling sheepishly. She informed everyone that she’d fallen down some stairs at a Tribeca screening. “No one post this online tonight,” she said, “I haven’t told my mom yet.” As she limped over to the piano bench, the crowd let loose a collective “Awww.” Spektor stared us down. “You’re treating me as if I’m a puppy!” she said. Terrific as her recordings are, it is often forgotten that Spektor is not only the voice, but also the piano, drums, and the eclectic clicks and whirs which make up her music. During one number she drummed on a folding chair with her right hand while playing a piano accompaniment with the left and alternately sang and invented vocalizations for a suspended mic. It’s a wonderful thing to witness a beautiful woman who knows her way around a Steinway. That night, Spektor was Shirley Temple-esque in appearance: with dark ringlets and a frilly dress. It was disarming then, when she hobbled over to a mint green bass and plucked out a song including the lyric, “next door someone’s fucking to one of my songs.”

The final act was Ingrid Michaelson, whose career explosion was triggered by the inclusion of her music on the show Grey’s Anatomy (this is the power in the collaboration of music and screen…instant stardom.) Michaelson is quirky. Her red hair and dark glasses obscure her face and she seems like the sort of girl you’d like to banter with over drinks. When her band set up on the other side of the piano from her, she waved at them, “I feel like you guys are so far way…Hello! Hi guys!” Her songs are narrative and largely about love. They are wry and self-deprecating in a way that suits gen Y. In her song “Die Alone,” she sings, “I never thought I could love anyone but myself…You make me think that maybe I won’t die alone.”

 

The Music Lounge is an excellent innovation and overall classy shindig. Where else can you hear five disparate artists play a mini-set of crowd and personal favorites? Side by side? While drinking free Jameson? I say put it on the calendar for next year. And check out the Punch Brothers.