If Pete Murray has taught us anything it’s that it isn’t the size of the wave, it’s the motion of the ocean – a fact that the songs off his third album reinforce at tonight’s show. With a knack for straight-forward trend-free tunes, Murray never fails to prove that sometimes less truly can be more.
All Jack Johnson and Xavier Rudd comparisons aside, the Byron Bay singer-songwriter is a force to be reckoned with – both vocally and physically. Built like a man-mountain, Murray’s vocal style is the complete opposite of what first impression would suggest – think husky croonings with an occasional throaty outburst that puts the ‘rock’ in his ‘folk-rock’ leanings. Usually, his voice is nothing short of celestial and simply magnetic. That said, despite having only kicked off the Summer At Eureka tour a few nights ago in Perth, by the time Murray reaches the Adelaide crowds tonight his voice seems cracked and rougher than normal. A victim of the flu? Maybe. Nevertheless, Murray’s worn voice unfortunately threatens to resemble that of the Cookie Monster towards the end of the set – all the more surprising considering the decision to do an encore with So Beautiful.
But before Murray’s voice begins to display the cracks and tears, tonight’s performance is top-notch in all sense of the word. Newies Silver Cloud and Never Let The End Begin in comparison to material from previous records sound a little more upbeat than the stuff Murray’s fans have grown used to. Summer At Eureka radio singles You Pick Me Up and Saving Grace already sound like old friends, while Feeler and Opportunity undisputedly stand out as crowd-favourites. Bail Me Out takes the cake.
Hard as it is to match a presence like Pete Murray, for a moment there his lead guitarist and newcomer to backing band The Stonemasons, Brett Wood, comes very close to overshadowing the frontman thanks to his jaw-to-the-floor guitar noodlings. Resembling a cross between fellow shredders Angus Young and John Mayer, Wood produces some truly massive fuck-off riffs that successfully resuscitate some of the more, uh, chilled, among the punters.
When the storm is over, Pete Murray and The Stonemasons return to the likes of the less boisterous tones of Please. Overall the show is about as relaxed as it is humanly possible without playing your instruments horizontally – literally actually, as bassist Andy Sylvio unabashedly decides a little rest would be quite nice before sprawling into the lazyboy sitting on the stage. Other props include a couple of dimmed-down reading lamps as well as a wall of library books which occasionally tends to display a purple light show through the gaps… It’s a little odd but somehow it all works.
Ultimately, witnessing a Pete Murray show means you’re in for an hour-and-a-half of one man’s musings on love and life. In a live setting, Murray pulls off a show that is so stripped down it’s virtually naked… Something which his female audience surely wouldn’t mind a bit.
