Bec Fest

The final NAFF session was a Bec Taylor feature, maybe not meant that way, but it's how it turned out.  She's a prolific and talented thing, singing and songwriting and playing piano and guitar and mandolin and drums for a solo set and with three other bands.  And with a cute 5-month old in tow.  I have felt that tug of parenthood and I could understand her response in her songs and her patter.  So her songwriting rang true to me.  Not just that, but her other instruments were perfectly capable and with piano as a real strength.  The change was visceral when she moved from mostly strummed guitar to piano, as she spelt out chords and internal movements and bass embellishments and the rest.  And she only confirmed it on piano with Hashemoto, belting out rhythms and apt solos and even a dissonant breakdown at one spot.  Loved it.  And her voice, too of course.  Nice and capable but a star as a high voice amongst the guys, a sweet sharp soprano octave.  And she's a character on stage, a real powerhouse.  Then the bands.  First up, Hashemoto, perhaps my favourite set on the day.  I found it both musically sophisticated, with odd times and solid beats and three part harmonies and interesting themes and that double bass and a lovely strong tenor voice.  I say tenor because of the care and presentation as much as the pitch.  Has he studied voice?  Dunno, but it worked a treat.  Getting back to Bec, though, I should highlight her emotionally intriguing lyrics.  Not just for her new life as a mother, but for any number of personally-based stories.  She spoke of such lyrics as displaying a kernel of truth with the imagination allowed to run wild, so songs are not too biographical and exposing.  Wise.  Then a comment on the role of a producer, to tell it as it is.  Again, wise.  But always with a cover of good will and humour.   And I noticed how her lyrics had rhyme but it wasn't intrusive, rather serving.  Again, clever.  Back to Hashemoto.  I once made a connection to The Beatles.  I still see the complexity of song, think Paul or followers Crowded House and the like, where lyrics define musical structure for lyrics should define a song as purpose should define politics (sorry, I digress but given the times we are in...).   Then Bec on drums behind Jason Recliner.  Well this is one I have never heard.  Front man Jeff Thompson seemed to run it, perhaps write it, with a country background and simpler rocky structures and again impressive, humourous but substantial lyrics with 3/4 part harmonies.  Clever, informed, amusing in words and presence: "Your confidence will get you nowhere / because I have been there", "I could be your pocket fox / using origami on me".  Then to end with more lyrics.  The final band was a mix of students and seniors called Gwen and singing the poetry of Gwen Harwood, Tasmanian poet.  Interestingly, complete with an associated Gwen zine with QR code handouts.  Cool.  And an interesting musical outing with Bec and Jeff and presumably Jeff's daughter Maia and Deb and Sango and those perceptive words of Gwen.  Not that I caught them all.  So, a wonderful afternoon of varied entertainment with that Bec theme and ever worthy lyrics.  Quality stuff.

Bec Taylor performed solo (voice, guitar, piano) and with the three bands.  Hashemoto were Damo Flanagan (guitar, vocals), Bec Taylor (piano, vocals), Potsy Webber (bass, vocals).  Jason Recliner were Jeff Thomson (guitar, vocals), Brad Moore (guitar, vocals, pipe), Pete Lyons (bass, vocals), Bec Taylor (drums, mandolin, vocals).  Gwen were Maia Thompson (mandolin, vocals), Bec Taylor (mandolin, vocals), Jeff Thompson (guitar, vocals), Deb Cleland (bass, vocals) and Sango Mahanty (drums, vocals).

Balladic icons

It was called Icons and the songs certainly were. This was a group of singers from the ANU School of Music performing pop songs: five women and one man. Tate Sheridan was the man, and at one stage he argued for the depth of the popular song, being about love and life. I can easily agree, at least with this set of songs, but then they are the cream of the cream: Elton John, Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Beatles, Joni Mitchell, Stevie Wonder, Kate Bush (who is more visible again recently, and must have been a challenge and fascination for these women). They sang 19 songs over two sets in Biginelli's Cafe, upstairs in the School of Music. This was civilised with cafe tables and provided with antipasto, and it was generous. I was not surprised by the age of the attendees (the performers were younger) and the music fitted. These were great songs, no doubt, but also none too recent. No grunge here, let alone hip-hop. These were also overwhelmingly ballads with overt seriousness. Perhaps too serious rather than entertaining. I'm more worried about climate change and the recent budget than love stories, but then I'm a bloke and past a time of hormones. There were some wonderful harmonies to such special songs. There were arrangements, some digging deeper into introversion. I loved the Kate Bush by both Rachael Thoms and Bec Taylor. Rachael especially had me poring over every controlled note and liquid vibrato and precise embellishment in Wuthering Heights. It shows that she's the teacher here, opera trained and an older (but not old) woman with a mature voice. They tell me that singers' voices improve with age and it's not just a matter of technique and experience. Not just that, though. She's jazz trained and was playful and daring when she performed a version of Come together with loops for bass and drums and harmonies and used effects for an authentic guitar solo. Fun and astonishing and obviously new for many in the crowd. [Hint: TC Helicon]. I loved Tate's commitment and unexpectedly decent voice and his dissonances and flexibility on piano. Seriously good. When he was playing Your song, I was reminded how the best musicians can just play the tune with all the right lines and chords and feels. Weaker musicians twist tunes because that's what they know. Tate was just spot on. Ben Taylor is a local star of the Canberra Musicians Club but I've heard her too little. I enjoyed her professionalism and presence and some decent piano and voice, and particularly admired her take on Babooshka. She did Joni Mitchell's Woodstock, too, and this was apt. Kirrah Amosa, Jacqui Douglas and Amy Jenkins perform as a trio called Kaleid (pronounced as in collide) and it was obvious that they'd played together a bit. These are quite different voices. Kirrah's is deep and powered, Jacqui higher and Amy in the stars and it works nicely together. Kirrah also accompanies on guitar and Jacqui on piano. As Kaleid they performed Carole King's Natural woman, but they also supported each other otherwise. The final song was Let it be, and everyone was up and we could sing along and wave electronic candles and that was fun. It was pretty serious stuff for an older bloke, but it certainly was a wonderful collection of songs which most of the audience remembered from their first releases and there were some great performances to convey them. Much enjoyed and would gladly do this over. Then it ended and Tate ran off, with me in hot pursuit...

Icons was a celebration of the great singer / songwriters of our time, performed by Tate Sheridan (piano, vocals), Jacqui Douglas (piano, vocals), Amy Jenkins (piano, vocals), Kirrah Amosa (guitar, vocals), Bec Taylor (piano, vocals) and Rachael Thoms (piano, vocals). Kirrah, Jacqui and Amy also performed as Kaleid.

Secret!

It was announced on Facebook and the Web and it was in the YouAreHere festival program, but it was secret. Even the name was secret: “The secret gig that noone knows about”. But it was pretty well attended anyway and the music was good. This is indie or alt music and it’s a field I only visit at the edge every now and then. Sometimes I’m disappointed; sometimes I’m blown out; sometimes my judgement is poor. I remember the first time I caught the Cashews and I wondered what all the hype was about. I was wrong then. Whenever I’ve caught them since, I’ve enjoyed them immensely and I have great respect. This is bordering on folk. It’s singer/songwriter material. It doesn’t live by chops or harmonic embellishements, although the quality of the voices and vocal harmonies are essential. This is music of words and thoughts and connection. So how was the secret concert?

There were four acts. I came at the end of the first and just managed a pic, but I’ve mentioned Drew Walky on CJ before. Next was the Burley Griffin. They are missing a bassist these days, so just guitar, drums and banjo. They had an interesting sound, with that uncommon banjo, and played a fairly rocky set. “Tell me honey / do you still know my name / you love me like the drug you’ve used” was earthy and street-wise. “Life is full of changes / on these moments we are found” had depth and was interesting. I wish I had caught more words; they seemed serious and fairly overt in their writing. The Burley Griffin is Evan Murray Buckley (vocals, guitar), Henry King (banjo, vocals) and I didn’t catch the drummer’s name. [I've now learnt his name is Kyle Mitchell. EP, 15 May 2012]

Hashemoto followed with humour and wonderful harmonies and very nicely structured pop tunes. I was dumbfounded when they started with a dissonant cacophony, then elated when they dropped into lovely three-part harmonies that soared with Bec Taylor’s female (soprano?) voice, then impressed by the songwriting and structures. Professional, clear, well played and interesting: what more can you want from such a band? One thing: humour and audience connection. They had that too. I noticed some lovely pure pop anthemic chants and the audience joined in on some, like “Some good things will come”. It was better than it seems: anthems sound innane out of context. There were Beatlesque decays and thuddy drones and those lovely vocals. Much enjoyed. BTW, this may be the first time I’ve seen a band haul out an acoustic piano after a gig. Hashemoto comprise Damo Flanagan (guitar, vocals), Bec Taylor (piano, vocals), Potsy Webber (bass, vocals).

The Cashews took the concert out with their songs of Canberra. Of course, they always sing songs of Canberra, they are renowned for it. Witty, capable and oddly informed by local history. Songs about Sullivan of Creek fame, Weston of Nursery fame and more. But they are also touching (“Little things I have written at the Cotter River / and I can’t wait to tell you everything”) and clever (“Like the 2010 election / I was lacking in direction”) and humane (“You don’t have to be a high achiever / to be a golden retriever”). Alison’s voice is all smiles and Pete’s demeanour is remote until he cracks a joke. The Cashews are a Canberra institution and a perfect expression of what Canberra is: unrevealed but often quite brilliant. And did I mention that they sing songs of Canberra? The Cashews are Alison Procter (guitar, vocals, accordion, ukelele, baby glockenspiel) and Pete Lyons (guitar, vocals, trumpet, ukelele).