Some bands play funk. Lettuce lives it. For over two decades, this Boston-born collective has built a reputation as one of the fiercest, funkiest live bands in the world—equal parts precision and chaos, discipline and freedom. Their sound is a living organism: part James Brown, part Herbie Hancock, part cosmic jam session. They’re the heirs to a deep tradition of groove—but their mission has always been to push it somewhere new.
A Seed Planted at Berklee
Lettuce’s story begins in 1992 at the Berklee College of Music, where a group of young musicians met and bonded over their shared obsession with the funk greats—Tower of Power, The Meters, Earth, Wind & Fire, Parliament-Funkadelic, and, of course, James Brown.
There was a problem, though: nobody wanted to book them. They were unknown, untested, and too funky for most of the local jazz clubs. So they did what any hungry band would do—they went from club to club literally asking to play. Their plea became their name: “Let us play.” Lettuce.
The original lineup included Eric Krasno (guitar), Neal Evans (keys), Adam Deitch (drums), Adam “Shmeeans” Smirnoff (guitar), Erick “Jesus” Coomes (bass), and Ryan Zoidis (saxophone). Over the years, the core has evolved, but that same DNA—tight musicianship, deep pocket, and fearless improvisation—has held firm.
From Cult Heroes to Festival Kings
Lettuce cut their teeth playing late-night gigs and sweaty club shows, earning a reputation as a band that could lock into a groove so deep it felt like time stopped. By the early 2000s, they were cult heroes in the jam and funk underground, touring relentlessly and collaborating with artists like John Scofield and Soulive.
Their 2002 debut, Outta Here, introduced their sound to a wider audience: thick basslines, punchy horns, and a rhythm section that hit like a freight train. But it was their later records—Rage! (2008), Fly (2012), and Crush (2015)—that pushed their sound into new territory. They fused old-school funk with hip-hop swagger, electronic textures, and cinematic atmospheres, creating something both rooted and futuristic.
By the time they released Elevate (2019) and the Grammy-nominated Resonate (2020), Lettuce had evolved from a jam-band favorite into a genre-blurring force. Their studio recordings became tighter, deeper, and more adventurous, while their live shows remained explosive—part jazz odyssey, part funk revival, part spiritual ceremony.
The Funk Philosophy
What sets Lettuce apart is their chemistry. Each member is a virtuoso in their own right, but together they form a rhythm machine that’s almost telepathic. Drummer Adam Deitch, also a respected hip-hop producer, anchors the band with surgical precision, while Coomes’ elastic basslines give the groove its swagger. Krasno and Smirnoff bring grit and soul on guitars, Zoidis and trumpeter Eric “Benny” Bloom light up the top end with horn lines that punch and dance.
The result is music that feels alive, elastic, and deeply human. They can stretch a song into a 15-minute exploration without ever losing the pocket—a rare balance of discipline and abandon. “We’re not trying to recreate the past,” Deitch once said. “We’re building on it.”
Beyond Genre
Lettuce’s music is funk at its core, but they’ve always treated genres as starting points, not boundaries. You can hear the influence of hip-hop, dub, psych-rock, and even electronic music in their sound. They’re equally comfortable playing a tight three-minute funk jam or a sprawling, ambient groove that feels like floating through space.
Their shows—whether at Red Rocks, Bonnaroo, or small clubs packed to the rafters—are celebrations of groove, spirit, and connection. The audience doesn’t just watch; they join the band in the act of creation. Every night is different, every show an experiment in joy.
Legacy in Motion
Now more than 30 years into their journey, Lettuce stands as one of the defining forces in modern funk—a bridge between generations, genres, and continents. They’ve inspired a new wave of players and producers who see funk not as nostalgia, but as a living, breathing art form.
Their music continues to evolve, but the core message remains simple and pure: make it funky, make it honest, and make it together.
In a musical landscape full of polish and pretense, Lettuce remains gloriously human—sweaty, imperfect, and transcendent. They remind us that the groove isn’t just something you hear. It’s something you feel—deep down, where words can’t reach