Promoting his stellar new solo release White Flag during the CMJ Music Marathon, Mannix bought along a whip-smart posse consisting of former Grip Weeds bassist Michael Nattboy, longtime accomplice Chris Peck on drums and honky-tonk keyboard whiz Rick Bunn. The flexible foursome filled the cramped Living Room with melody and muscle. They also took full advantage of the opening act's unexpected disappearance, which afforded a luxury most touring artists visiting New York City would kill for: a sound check.

Commencing with a Marty Balinesque ballad "Caroline," Mannix wisely opted for an intimate introduction, effortlessly accommodating an audience of fresh-faced twenty-somethings on first dates and bridge-and-tunnel bohemes joining casual acquaintances. Grabbing rapt attention is another rarity in this town, yet the band and their leader held court form the get-go.

"New York is a weird place," Mannix is quick to explain. "Especially when it comes to showing emotion. People in other parts of the country are far more open and make their presence known. Maybe it's Manhattan chic to fold arms, keep quiet and observe, I'm not sure."

A natural storyteller, Mannix immediately lauched into the atmospheric "Whiter Flag," with Peck pushing the backbeat and the somnambulant Bunn, a dead ringer for Jimmie Dale Gilmore, ably complimenting the singer's legato vocal phrases with soft acoustic piano runs and scattered block chords. "Bellerose Hill" evoked memories of singing journalist Phil Ochs as Mannix's baritone voice pinned tales of love unfulfilled above a buoyant rhythm section. The sentiment that emerges on the recorded version of "The Last Gang in Town" took on an anthemic quality by way of Mannix's heavy-handed rhythmic guitar strokes, which dropped neatly between the meter throughout the verses and choruses.

The title track "to the new one" was delivered with the loose, rollicking feel of Crazy Horse in full ragged glory. For the Dylan disciples who still populate the terrain, "Everyman" was like a dirge left off Desire or John Wesley Harding, brimming with surrealistic wordplay, overt passion and sinewy harmonica licks.

"I usually play this room solo," notes Mannix. "The last time I had a mandolin player and trumpets with me." Nattboy, dressed for a winter storm with long sleeves, multi-layered T-shirts and wool hat, kept the singer on course with his simple, yet effective counterpoint bass playing that could be discerned from center stage to the back of the room. Crediting his vintage Fender Precision and his boss' bring-what-you-have-to-the-table ethic, the affable sideman offered the best rationale for staying up late on a cold November night; "This is really fun."

- TOM SEMIOLI