Ten Kens

Ten Kens’ spiritual blend of slow building proggy rock is awkward at best — live at least. The venue was slowly filling, yet remained empty despite their attempt to fill it with sonic soundscapes. Once in a while their tunes would ignite and find a path within the seemingly aimless soaring guitar and deadpan vocals, but usually the band members were left stumbling over each other’s instruments trying so hard to reach that single moment of musical unity, yet failing more often than not. When front-man Dan Workman whipped out a book and started reading from it, I would have liked to say that was a good idea, but it just wasn’t.