Thursday, March 30, 2017

Don Henley in Adelaide

Don Henley
Entertainment Centre, Wed  15 Mar

A concert by Don Henley, co-founder of the legendary Californian band The Eagles, with a handpicked band of 15 musicians was always going to be good. Henley has lost nothing of his vocal capabilities – he still hits the highest notes with ease, and he clearly enjoys playing rockier numbers. He and Glenn Frey always wanted The Eagles to be more of a rock band and he can now live out that dream.
There were plenty of quieter, almost acapella, or country style numbers that featured wonderful ensemble vocals, but the bulk of the show was firmly in rock territory.
Several things stood out – Henley’s voice, the superb back-up vocals from the female chorus, a spectacular light show, and the fact that Henley himself has become quite chatty on stage - unlike the vaguely disengaged persona he appeared to be in The Eagles. He comes across now as a generous and friendly guy, humble and sincere in his appreciation of the audience’s love of his music. When he wasn’t singing he wandered to the back of the stage out of the limelight.
The band ranged back and forth across four decades playing hits from the Henley canon. All 16 members of the band sang on the opener – Seven Bridges Road – in a thrilling start. Witchy Woman, One of These Nights, Life in the Fast Lane, and Boys of Summer are well known Eagles songs that got royal rock treatment. A couple of songs from his more recent Cass County album were done as duets with one of the female singers with impeccable harmony.
Desperado was dedicated to Henley’s recently departed songwriting partner Glenn Frey – the first song they wrote together. Hotel California got a gig, and was as good as ever, complete with duelling guitars on the closing part of the song. But I missed Don Felder and Joe Walsh. And I missed Glenn Frey. At times those absent names were very present in the memories of the earlier versions of these songs.
Henley would be very aware of this of course, but all he can do is play the songs he wants to sing with respect for those who helped him get to where he is. And he does all of that in spades. He seems to have grown into something of an elder statesmen of rock as he tells the tales behind the songs with the wisdom (and occasional wit) of hindsight, and he has assembled an impressive band of musicians of all ages to bring his history of rock to modern audiences.

It was a slick and polished show. The time flew by and it was all of a sudden time to bid farewell to a remarkable talent who has entertained several generations of music fans now for 45 years. And given how good he looked and sounded tonight I wouldn’t be surprised if he does it for quite a bit longer.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Saturday, March 18, 2017

WOMADelaide 2017 - Day 4

There wasn’t much music programmed for the early part of Day 4 so it seemed like a good time to go to Speakers Corner and hear what people were saying about religion and the environment. The session was chaired by an unorthodox, unruly, and occasionally funny Fr Bob Maguire. On the panel was a scientist, a rabbi, and a Muslim academic. (Could be the first line of a joke …) It was perhaps a rare occasion when all religions represented agreed – there is a dire need for more to be done to awaken interest in their respective flocks about sustainability and the environment. Prof Mohamad Abdulla said it best – religious leaders simply need to take a more active role in engaging their congregations about the environment.
What followed made it a tough day for me musically! I have written elsewhere about how the music at Womad has changed over the years, and I realise that there is a generation change going on among Womad audiences, and I’m part of the generation slowly being transferred out! I found plenty of stimulating and enriching music on days 1-3, but it just happened that most of what I chose to see on the final day was part of a trend towards anonymous global funk, where everyone basically sounds the same.
Wikipedia defines funk “as a music genre that originated in the mid- 1960s when African American musicians created a rhythmic, danceable new form of music through a mixture of soul music, jazz, and rhythm and blues (R&B). Funk de-emphasizes melody and chord progressions …. and brings a strong rhythmic groove of a bass line played by an electric bassist and a drum part played by a drummer to the foreground.”
Note the part about de-emphasising melody. Global funk is my term for any world or ethnic music that has corrupted its origins with an excessive reliance on rhythm and percussion. And once that happens they really do all sound much the same. But I acknowledge too that time after time I walk away from acts featuring this type of music while hundreds of others are drawn to it like moths to a flame. Melody is irrelevant to them it seems and they dance with joy and abandon to this anonymous global funk. So it is I concede MY problem.
After an initial skim of the weekend program I decided that Lamine Sonko and the African Intelligence were probably going to be just another global funk band and decided to give them a miss. However the video on the Womad website featured Sonko playing some great acoustic guitar with just one other acoustic guitarist so I decided to give them a go. Sonko’s guitar, as played on the demo clip, got about 30 seconds airtime before the 11 piece band just crawled all over it and went funk. Very misleading video.
I thought I’d try the music of another recent immigrant to Australia, Natalie Rize, from Jamaica. Various flags were draped over the speaker boxes to nice effect, and for some unknown reason the bass player appeared in jet pilot overalls and bomber helmet. Natalie herself was full of energy. She’s a compelling and elegant performer but this is a form of reggae very different from the Bob Marley days. A VERY loud bass drove the show, and there was tons of percussion and for mine, everyone was just playing too much. Reggae works best when the arrangements are sparse and there’s a recognisable melody line. No such thing in this performance. Just a wall of sound where nothing had space.
Mercedes Peon is from Spain and has spent much of her life preserving and playing the indigenous music of Galicia. For a second time I found that a promotional video for an artist on the Womad website was totally misleading. Peon’s promotional video featured her as the lead singer in a big band with a female chorus. What we got at Womad was a one woman show using various forms of electronica, looping vocals and occasional bagpipes to launch an aural assault on the audience. Any semblance of the original Galician tunes was lost in the mix.
I wandered back to stage 2 and found The Piyut Ensemble from Israel, an all-male group of 8 singers, a string player, flautist, percussionist and 3 clappers singing pieces inspired by ‘African and Middle Eastern traditions of Jewish liturgical poetry, (and) synagogue melodies’. Their acapella like arrangements were pure in form and quite hypnotic in their insistence. Not particularly tuneful as some devotional music can be, but it was certainly high energy, authentic, and positive in intent.
Nhatty Man and Gara is another foreign artist who has relocated to Australia. Originally from Ethiopia, reggae is part of their sound but it’s much bigger and louder than that. ‘Ethio-jazz’ the program called it but for me it was just another incidence where all the players just get bogged down in yet another example of anonymous global funk. I did enjoy their brass section however.
I was becoming dispirited. Days 1-3 provided plenty of variety and purity of ethnic sounds. Day 4 seemed to be loaded up with bands that all sounded pretty much the same. The Specials were still to come – an old favourite from years back – but that was 2 hours away and I’d run out of steam. A four day festival feels too long. No one forces you to go all 4 days of course, but 3 days feels about right.
Interestingly, the undoubted highlight of the day was non-musical. Les Goulus are a crazy French troupe who are hilarious at pretending to be equestrian show jumpers in their giant horse puppets. A very funny interlude on the way between stages. 
I’m beginning to see why Peter Goers can say how he loves WOMADelaide but can’t stand the music!
Big ticks to Womad management for ensuring people could take in plastic bottles of water. And it was very noticeable that what had become a growing, annoying, and unnecessary police presence (with sniffer dogs!)  over the last couple of years was scaled back. Good move. Womad does not need heavy handed policing.

WOMADelaide is still a wonderful event. It’s still an enchanting world of fantasy for all ages, and still has a magic about it.

Two weeks later: came across this Playing for Change video. It embodies what WOMAD once was.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

WOMADelaide 2017 - Day 3

I felt like a fair weather friend as I arrived in the late afternoon after the rain had stopped. I tried not to look anyone who had weathered the days’ rain in the face as I took my place on the soggy ground out front of the Zoo stage for Indian classical music singer, Sudha Rajunathan. She introduced her music as “a treasure of South India” and said she expected an audience who can appreciate the finer points of Indian classical tradition. Just in case we didn’t she shared earnest information about each piece her trio played. She’s an extraordinary singer. Nothing seemed beyond her as she pitched high and low and quivered and slid between notes of the various ragas they played for us. Very pure, unadulterated ethnic music that for some would be an acquired taste. As is often the case with Indian classical music there was a lot of mimicking the vocal sounds by accompanying instruments - violin and tabla. It was a real treat.
I had heard Aziz Brahim talk about the plight of her Saharawi people on day 1 and was looking forward to hearing how she translates her ideas into song and I wasn’t disappointed. She has a musical connection with the Tuareg people of North Africa, and much of the music reminded me of the desert rock sounds of TInariwen from several Womads back. The sound is cool and cruisy and Aziza’s vocals float delightfully across the top of her 5 piece band. There’s a lot of space in the rhythms and at times the lead guitar parts sounded very much like white blues guitarists of the 70’s. Think Al Kooper for those who might remember.
Bebel Gilberto from Brazil was the next main attraction on the Foundation stage. She looked bewitching and her band – including 2 classical guitarists – sounded smooth and classy. It felt a bit like nightclub music. It was quite jazz oriented and featured some superb percussion from the drummer, but there was something strange about a singer intent on providing endless opportunities for photographs of her sexy poses and flaunted sexuality. She is Brazilian after all, but it didn’t feel quite right at Womad.

I had intended to catch some other music before the live performance of Koyaanisqatsi by the legendary Philip Glass Ensemble but I noticed the space in front of Stage 2 was filling up fast so I found a spot where I had a good view of the screen and killed half an hour there watching the crowd gather. That was a good decision. Koyaanisqatsi packs just as much punch as it first did on release in 1982 – perhaps even more so. Stunning images of life on planet earth were projected behind the Ensemble as they faultlessly delivered the dramatic soundtrack for the next 90 minutes. I seem to remember talk of Koyaanisqatsi being something that was great to watch while under the influence of whatever drug you might choose, but these days it felt more like a serious reminder to us all that we humans live on a beautiful planet that we need to take better care of. But down the back there was the unmistakable odour of marijuana so I guess for some it’s still a case of the best way to experience Koyaanisqatsi is to be stoned! I’m sure they loved it. 35 years on it is still a remarkable sound and vision experience – stoned or otherwise.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

WOMADelaide 2017 - Day 2

For the last couple of last years, for some ridiculous security reason, people entering Womad have not been able to take in bottles of water. Empty bottles though were acceptable so there were scenes of people pouring out their water at the entrance. Thankfully sanity has prevailed and this year bottles of water are allowed!
Womad is not just about music. In the last few years it has broadened its scope to include talks and things like cooking demonstrations from visiting artists – Taste the World. I began day 2 with a visit to the Speakers Corner tent to listen to Aziza Brahim talk about the plight of the Saharawi people of the Western Sahara. She, typical of many of her generation, had spent her entire life in a refugee camp before moving to Barcelona as an adult. She now uses her music to advertise and lobby for the plight of her people who are still stateless and marooned in refugee camps in Morocco.
But back to the music. The Ainu, an indigenous people from the island of Hokkaido in Japan, have long been treated as second class citizens. The Oki Dub Ainu Band exist to play their brand of Japanese music, and highlight the condition of the Ainu people. They performed in traditional costume, and featured traditional stringed and mouth instruments. The mouth instruments resembled the sound of the Jews harp. They settled into a pleasing pattern of grooves that was nicely rhythmic and managed to retain an indigenous essence. It was quite hypnotic but it still sounded Japanese and the traditional flavour of their music did not get lost in the mix.
9 Bach, a folk group from Wales drew a large crowd. Lovely female harmonies were on show - backed by a sold driving beat. Plucked dulcimer added intrigue to the sound and though Welsh they may be the vocals had that inimitable stamp of much traditional folk music from the UK.
I had been wondering for years, given our historical connection with Vietnam, when Vietnamese music would turn up at Womad and it finally happened this year. Hanoi Masters consists of two older men who have obviously been playing traditional Vietnamese music for decades, and a younger woman who now lives in America. The super traditional music of the old masters is an acquired taste – quiet and mournful – and felt like a throwback to the early days of Womad when traditional sounds were presented unadorned. But it felt like the Hanoi Masters were really just an excuse for the female member of the troupe to demonstrate her prowess on a range of traditional instruments, and she was wonderful. She shared useful information about the instruments she was playing and the role of Vietnamese music in dealing with the horrors of war. This explained the plaintive and mournful air of the pieces they played.
Brushy One String hails from Jamaica, and yes, he plays a guitar with just one string. Brushy had a Jamaican flag hanging off his guitar neck and is an engaging character. Quite chatty and full of personality. The one string essentially acts as a bass part to his vocals. It was all quite listenable, and he eventually, as all good Jamaicans do, got to reggae. But I found myself wondering if he was just an eccentric white guy living here in Adelaide whether he’d get a gig at Womad. I doubt he would.
Most people will remember Toni Childs as the singer of Stop Your Fussing – a mega hit from the 80’s. It’s amazing what just one hit can do for your popularity. She drew a huge crowd to the Novatech stage and she didn’t disappoint. She began by saying she wanted to cleanse our musical palates from everything else we had heard in the preceding day and a half, and she did this with an atmospheric piece featuring bagpipes and drums. What followed was a solid set of pop songs of quality and substance, and that unmistakable and tuneful vocal style – lovely to listen to.
Aurelio is from Honduras, and was introduced as a musician who straddles influences from the Latin world, Africa, and the Caribbean. And it was a fair description. Though 4 of the 6 musicians on stage were either percussion or bass, they didn’t lose a sense of melody as they played a set of songs that contained a lot of variety – reflective of the multiple influences that inform their music. Strangely one song sounded uncannily like the music from Pail Simon’s Graceland album. There was some lovely interplay between Aurelio and his electric guitarist, and they left enough space in their music for some beautiful lead guitar solo work that didn’t rely on overspeed and volume. Really quite tasteful.
Baba Zula were a weird mob. Billed as the torchbearers of Turkish psychedelic rock and roll, their two frontmen appeared in kind of traditional dress but it was more about not taking things too seriously I suspect. They rocked the Zoo stage for an hour with good solid rhythms that kept a connection with their Turkish roots. Traditional strings (oud, saz) were electrified. In fact, there was a lot of electronic gadgetry onstage but they still managed to keep things from spiralling out to anonymous global funk land. Quite impressive actually – and a good model for other world music bands to follow I’d suggest.
And then of course there were The Waifs. A huge crowd packed the area in front of the Foundation stage and they played their polished brand of folk rock to an adoring crowd. If you are way down the back of the main stage this year you can watch the concert on a big screen that has been erected about two thirds down the way toward the back. A separate crowd gathered there for the not quite live version of the show!
Two days down and this 25th anniversary Womadelaide already feels like a huge success. Womad management however may be a little concerned about crowd numbers. Great for those in attendance – it’s much more comfortable when it’s less crowded – but it does feel like numbers are down on last year. And rain is predicted for day 3. 

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

WOMADelaide 2017 - Day 1

As someone wrote on Facebook, it was a perfect evening to celebrate Womadelaide’s 25th anniversary. Botanic Park was bathed in a soft, golden light. Stage 1 has another new name – it’s now the Foundation Stage. Seems like the contempt expressed by punters last year about naming stages with commercial brands has been heeded.

Proceedings began, as they always do, with a welcome to country from a local Kaurna dance group. Our indigenous hosts informed us that Aboriginal people are also celebrating a milestone this year – it is 50 years since they were recognised as human beings! (In the 1967 referendum Australians agreed that Aboriginal people should be recognised by the constitution as citizens of their own land.)

The Warsaw Village People kick started the music with a rousing set that included duelling violins, two percussionists and some tight but at times abrasive harmony vocals. It didn’t take them long to stray into the ubiquitous global funk. My favourite was a polka tune.

Gawurra was up next. The program notes added just a little pressure on the guy by comparing him to Gurrumul. They are both from Arnhem Land and sing in language. And they do have a lot in common. But I think it’s fair to say that Gawurra’s music is a little more accessible than Gurrumul’s. Very pleasant soft rock tunes flowed easily. Mention of the influence of Jesus on his music was where he and I parted company. But still a lively and enjoyable set.

Womad always features a group playing Celtic music and this year it is a Canadian group called The East Pointers. Or more specifically, they’re from Prince Edward Island. They were great. They dished up an energetic set of jigs and reels featuring music from Ireland, Scotland and local (to them) Canadian composers. It is unusual for Celtic music to feature banjo but it was the tenor banjo playing that was the highlight of this set for me. Unbelievably fast and melodic playing. And the crowd were up and dancing.

There’s been quite a bit of African acapella music around Adelaide of late. African Entsha and the Soweto Gospel Choir have both been on the bill at the Fringe. Womad’s contribution is The Soil from South Africa. Two men and a woman make up The Soil. The moon was rising over the zoo stage as they began and rather than relying on volume or quantity of sound their acapella format is more dependent on tight harmony arrangements and infectious rhythm. And again the people danced. It must be very satisfying for an acapella group, using no instruments, to get people up and dancing.

I wandered down to stage 3 and found the highlight of the night. Orquesta Tipica Fernandez Fierro are an Argentinian tango ensemble. Three violinists, a piano player, cello, and four demonic accordion players rocked and swayed to a wicked and dramatic set of emotion filled tango. Deep and sexy female vocals added superb tension, and every scene was awash in smoke and stunning lighting effects. It was as powerful visually as it was to listen to. Just fantastic. I haven’t seen physical musicianship like this since the days of Split Enz. Every move by every player was choreographed to superb effect. There’s clearly a connection between this music and Portuguese Fado, and both musical traditions reveal that there is more to the Latin spirit than enjoyment and laid back manyana like attitudes.
For sheer joy I’m really glad I took the time to check out The Manganiyar Classroom. Hailing from India, this group of young boys aged 8-16 take to the daunting task of singing songs from the musical traditions of Rajasthan. Just across the border is Pakistan and it is quite obvious that this style of music from Rajasthan has connections with the Sufi music of the legendary Pakistani Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. It has many of the same vocal inflections, and the spirited physical expression of the music with outstretched arms and much interplay between the lead singer (their teacher) and the chorus (the children). It was very impressive to see these children sing out with gusto, and they also simply sounded wonderful.
My musical soul felt totally nourished at this point and I headed towards the exit, only to be sidetracked by an enchanting park of fire lights by Cie Carabossa (France). Hundreds of small clay pots each with their own fire arranged in a variety of shapes across several hundred metres of the park. Just the ideal dose of fantasy to send you home happy. There is a serious side though – the exhibition is called Exodus of Forgotten Peoples and is there to remind us all that peoples have the right to freedom of moveent in and out of their country

Whatever one thinks of the changes to Womadelaide over the years, some things don’t change. For 25 years it has created an environment of creativity and other-worldly fantasy. Womad 2017 is off to a brilliant start. 

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

Friday, March 17, 2017


Studio in Bakehouse Theatre, Tue 14 Mar

Matrophobia is the fear of becoming like your mother, and The Daughters Collective do a superb job of conveying the web of intricate reactions this conjures up. They achieve that Holy Grail of comedy with a show that is really funny and scarily serious in equal measure.
Three women each take turns in describing their mothers’ lives and how they feel about them. With dance and music and crisp, articulate dialogue they switch between being themselves and being their mothers, and on occasion it is difficult to tell which is which – such is the interwoven connection between them.
Another effective switching technique has the cast swapping between scenes that are rehearsed and choreographed, to scenes where they are being themselves in conversation with the audience and each other. It adds a degree of authenticity and sincerity that gives the overall performance greater credibility. It’s a tricky task, and works beautifully.
A scene that has them thrust into the future where, despite all their fears and misgivings they each have twins is hilarious. They engage in a manic episode of mutual adoration of each other’s babies, and then try and reclaim some semblance of fitness and sexiness in a gym like dance routine.
As a male it felt a bit like watching an initiation into secret women’s business at times, but it also gave me a greater appreciation of the complexity of women’s lives. I am normally loathe to concede that a woman’s life is more complicated than a man’s but after watching Matrophobia I’m not so sure. The biological imperative to have children and nurture and all the messy physiology that goes with it was forcefully and funnily presented here.
There is a bitter sweet balance of love and hate about their mothers that is honest, brutal and loving, and that is a tough mix to get right in a one hour piece of theatre. It’s refreshingly realistic, and all portrayed with great poise and depth of perception.
Younger women are going to find Matrohobia eerily predictive, but it’s a show that everyone can enjoy and learn from because, of course, we all have, or have had, mothers.

A fantastic piece of serious comedy that does not miss a beat. Smart, entertaining theatre.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

A Boy Named Cash

A Boy Named Cash
Henrietta’s at The Henry Austin, Mon 20 Feb

Johnny Cash is another music legend whose legacy is being kept alive by a generation who weren’t born when his songs were played on the radio. In A Boy Named Cash Monty Cotton does a fantastic job of bringing Cash’s music to a modern audience. He has the deep resonant vocal tone that was Cash’s trademark, and I suspect he may be a far more accomplished musician than Johnny Cash was.
This show is slick and pacey. Cotton rips through all the expected hits with a virtuosic ease. From Folsom Prison Blues to Ring of Fire and everything in between he plays everything Cash fans from the past might want to hear. And truth is he plays them all better than Johnny Cash ever did. With a deft touch on guitar and an array of loops and pedals he turns every song into a showcase of his exceptional ability and in the process elevates every song to a new high.
I doubt that Johnny Cash was funny on stage, but Cotton sure is. Goading the audience to participate at frequent intervals he gets everyone singing along and laughing at themselves in good natured fashion. Not only is this show great to listen to but, and perhaps in contrast to the serious persona Cash cultivated, there are plenty of laughs. A segment where he asks the audience to nominate songs for ‘a Cash conversion’ is very clever and really funny.
Cotton has taken the legend and the music and made it his own. His singing is great but if it lacks anything it’s that gravel edge that characterised Cash’s vocals – probably a consequence of hard living and a lot of drugs and alcohol – and Cotton might be better off without it!

A Boy Named Cash is almost the complete package. The hour flew by in the hands of a very talented musician/performer, and should guarantee that Cash’s music will last a good while longer yet.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

A Blot on Our Cultural Landscape

Bucks (or A Bag of D*cks)
Mainstage in Bakehouse Theatre, Mon 27 Feb

The scariest thing about Bucks (or A Bag of D*cks) is it’s very close to the truth. Anyone who has spent time in male dominated sporting environments for example, may well recognise many of the behaviours in this menacing show. The uncontrolled substance abuse, the bullying, the fake bravado, the repressed gay character, and the reluctance to genuinely confront issues with honest conversation is a sad reflection on Australian male culture that one hopes is becoming less prevalent.
The bucks party though is still alive and well, and in this instance involves subjecting the buck to a range of demeaning behaviours in some weird twis­­ted idea of being a good mate, being a good sport, being willing to have a laugh where in fact it is a degrading exercise in ritual bullying.
The 5 male cast members run amok in Bucks, and create a sense of mayhem and chaos with high energy drug fuelled dysfunction. Old scars resurface from unresolved differences and disagreements are met with denial or attacks on the accuser with little regard to the truth of a matter. It’s all about being tough, and it’s a toughness born of fear – fear of being vulnerable, or looking weak or sensitive. A fear of honestly confronting reality and dealing with opposing views in a rational way.
Bucks (or A Bag of D*icks) is a great combined performance as they generate a sense of palpable fear. There is a sense of relief as things come to a close even though everything is still unresolved. You can imagine the characters meeting again months later and having a laugh about ‘that crazy bucks party’ while still not confronting the issues of fear, repressed sexuality, and the bullying it revealed.
This show should be shown in schools across the nation for boys to examine and question what is going on and why, and for girls to get a glimpse of just how ugly and threatening the macho world of the Australian male can be.

Not all Australian men are like this of course, but these types do exist. Hiding behind notions of mateship and with misguided ideas of what it means to be a man, they’re a blot on our cultural landscape.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)


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