Clarence Greenwood—a.k.a. Citizen Cope—occupies an oddly decorated space. His music incorporates elements of blues, turntablism, hip hop, and R&B, resulting in the sort of moody, languid rock that advertisers lean on to help sell cars. That isn't necessarily a knock, though Greenwood has taken lumps enough for it. Truthfully, he should be commended, but he consistently gets mentioned along with Everlast and the mostly boring Jack Johnson, though even on his worst day he stands head and shoulders above them. While having a certain dreamlike quality to them, his songs are also anxious and agitated, like they might spin out of his careful control into full-blown rap anthems or Delta blues standards. Others have attempted this "everything-and-the-kitchen sink" approach with lesser results, but Citizen Cope has found a way to please both the man drinking a domestic beer and the woman sipping a $12 glass of French wine across the table.
Sun., Feb. 24, 7:30 p.m., 2008