Aaron Frazer Brings the Soul to Deep Ellum for His Dallas Solo Debut

There is the sense, watching Aaron Frazer perform, that he was born about three decades too late.

Had the 33-year-old Baltimore-bred singer-songwriter come of age in the late 1960s or early 1970s, he would have undoubtedly fit right in with the R&B and soul groups of the era.

That he’s crooning buttery ballads and belting wall-shaking anthems in the age of TikTok instead of Soul Train is probably bittersweet, but Frazer’s music is no less enthralling because of it.

Monday night marked the first time the now Brooklyn-based Frazer — who originally broke out over a decade ago as the drummer for the Indiana-formed R&B group Durand Jones & the Indications — has performed in Dallas as a solo headliner.

Although he’s touring behind his recently released second solo effort, Into the Blue, thanks to the pandemic, he’s only just now hitting the road to support Blue and its predecessor, 2021’s Introducing ...

If the delay at all frustrated him, there was no evidence of it during Frazer’s joyous, invigorating 90-minute set before a near-capacity Club Dada on Monday night. The cozy stage was crammed with seven musicians, plus Frazer, giving the whole night an intimate charge.

Frazer’s luscious falsetto — muscular, soaring and soulful — was the star of the show, deployed early and often, whether he was seated behind the drum kit — as during the opener, “You Don’t Wanna Be My Baby” — or prowling the lip of the stage, exhorting the occasionally rowdy room with the punchy swing of “Can’t Leave It Alone,” which entered orbit on the strength of a knock-out solo from saxophonist M.A. Tiesenga.

“You feeling that?” Frazer shouted to the roar of the crowd. “I’m so happy to be in Dallas; I love this town so much.”

Indeed, the backing musicians were in crisp lockstep all night: drummer/percussionist/vocalist Brian Antonio Gazo, backing vocalist Camille Trust, keyboardists/synth and talk-box player Daniel Abraham Jr., trumpeter Cade Gotthardt, bassist Michael Montgomery and guitarist Rex Williams were all lights-out from first note to last.

The passion and precision with which Frazer and his bandmates performed was infectious, as was the depth and breadth of his abiding love for R&B and soul music in its myriad forms.

He was able to move from quoting New Edition’s early '80s classic “Mr. Telephone Man” with Trust, to enlisting the audience in a singalong to the Delfonics’ “La-La Means I Love You,” to covering a Queen deep cut (“Cool Cat”), to doling out multiple Smokey Robinson covers (“The Agony and the Ecstasy”; “Ooh Baby Baby,” which kicked off the encore) with the ease of a shuffled playlist. Frazer even dipped into bilingual sizzle, performing the English-Spanish duet “Dime” with Trust, a rendition so sexy it nearly peeled the paint off the club's walls.

The homages to the art of others would have been plenty enjoyable, but Frazer’s own music was as dynamic and engaging. Late in the set, the triptych of “Time Will Tell,” “Payback” (which climaxed with a fiery, mind-altering guitar solo from Williams) and “Bad News” was a run thrilling enough to almost induce dizziness.

Frazer’s roots as a drummer mean he’s got a bone-deep understanding of the power of rhythm, and that intuitive sense of propulsion meant even the scintillating slow jams (“Bring You a Ring” or “Lover Girl”) carried the audience along. Frazer and his collaborators just kept chasing the high — the pure, uncut endorphin rush — that comes from truly talented artists locking onto a wavelength and riding it as far as it will take them and anyone in its vicinity.

“It feels so good to share so much joy tonight,” Frazer crowed as the set rolled on. “You’re one of the coolest audiences I’ve ever gotten to play for.”

Aaron Frazer might've been born too late, but Monday night, he was right on time.

The openers, The Tailspins (Los Angeles duo Oskar and Julia Buie), proved to be a delightfully off-kilter appetizer, doling out original songs flavored with 1950s rockabilly, calypso, 1930s jazz, swing and probably a half-dozen other sonic influences.

The Buies’ harmonies were as tightly braided as their electric guitar playing, and the vaudeville vibes — we're pretty sure there was a stray “Lindy Hop” reference in one of the lyrics — proved to be a fascinating mood-setter, even if the audience wasn’t always quite sure what to do with them. (They’ll be back in town at the Kessler Theater in the coming months.)