Usually I hear an album, love for it is rarely instant. I usually spin it once while wandering aimlessly between the kitchen and my study - the music is in the lounge room.
Four weeks before seeing Earle a friend gave me a copy of his Washington Square Serenade and a bunch of songs tacked on the end of the disc. I ignored it for three weeks then decided I'd best get familiar. It appeared a solid folk-rock album with a dash of country and funk in the catchy and seemingly mindless Satellite Radio.
I heard the LP again on the roadtrip to the gig, set between live Neil Young bootlegs and a dodgy bluegrass compilation. But it didn't register as anything glorious.
Earle walked on to the Enmore Theatre's stage about 9:30. Just a guitar and his greying beard to keep company. And he unleashed a phenomenal canon of songs that ranged from the now spiritual yelp of Satellite Radio to the fever of Transcendental Blues. It's rare for me to be won over by a live performance but Earle was and is undeniable. He is the rare singer-songwriter that plays alone. Too many seeming solo artists seem afraid to play on their own. Maybe they're afraid the songs won't stack up, maybe they know the songs are shit and need the protection of instruments. Earle knows his songs stack up. Part of that comes from playing for decades but it also arrives out of hard work - in every song the 30 songs that didn't make it can be heard.
No comments:
Post a Comment