An intimate venue fashioned from shipping containers: a genie’s bottle of twinkling lights overhead and twinkling people, courtesy of the tinsel wigs and red, light up flapper beads laid out in the entrance way for the punters. Erected in the Palais Theatre carpark, any comparisons to the simply thrown together Container Bar in the city are swiftly dismissed: this place is gorgeous. A tall, funky gentleman in hat, afro tufts and dubious moustache invites us warmly in, where an attentive bar, upholstered lounge room and low stage lay in wait for a funk and soul show of heart-filling proportions.

The Bamboos, local boys made really good on the world stage, take over the proceedings after a funk/soul warmer DJ set from Chris Gill. With the full soul enchilada – bass, guitar, drums, keys, horns – these guys rarely disappoint, but with Kylie Auldist, their new soul diva in residence, out front they have reached a new pinnacle. In a sultry black evening gown and killer grin, Kylie has a timeless soul voice and a brilliant handle on how to have fun with boys in bands.

Like an old time funk/soul show the boys crack the crowd and get everyone’s hips going before Kylie hits the stage working through a couple of originals before redefining The Bamboos version of Kings of the Rodeo. No disrespect to Megan Washington’s original vocal on this track – Kylie nails it in a juke joint way that a white jazz singer just can’t do. Unless, perhaps, she’s Alice Russell.

My singular complaint about this set is that in the sprawling manner of these kind of shows, songs showcase each band member, turning into clapping, whooping celebrations of the solos and before you know it, it’s over. Even though they ripped through an hour-long cache of tracks, it just wasn’t enough and every cocktail-waving, screaming fan was left hanging for more.

Obviously, the star song-bird was still to perform and amongst the incredulous murmurs of attendees who couldn’t believe they were getting this night soooo cheaply, Alice Russell appeared.

Now, Kylie Auldist has never struck me as an overtly tall or extraordinarily sized lady, but I certainly was not prepared for the diminutive stature of the headliner. Alice flitted in like a flapper from out of space in sequinned black smock, striking head piece, peaches and cream complexion and towering heels, which didn’t appear to increase her reach, except perhaps vocally – who knows the true power of highheels?

Her violinist, a hulking fellow, provided a deep undercurrent vocal for Alice’s raft of soul/funk brilliance as she peaked over waves, dipping into chasms. There really is nothing like seeing classically trained musicians like Alice’s band, and The Bamboos, hitting the groove and playing off each other instinctively: Kylie and Alice are both as instruments or musicians of their own voices, and the respect and love they have for their – œboys’ on stage radiates in a way you don’t see in your stock garage band.

Alice’s interpretation of The White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army, is a cracker, but not the best in her bank by a long shot. A violin that emulates horns, deliciously wicked basslines, keys and drums spawned from Chicago – this is the bomb, as far as music that makes you dance, sing and soar. Ten minute jams sneak in ahead of Big Shiny Laser, a newbie with an insane bass part. A jubilant crowd wave their glittery wigs in the air as Alice brings the scream, the growl, the funk, the move, the velvet voice, the soul crescendo.

Persian carpets, lounge chairs, hands shaking in the hair, its the church of Alice Russell. The gracious lady thanks – œyou guys for coming to hear the music’ and is heralded by encore to return by a screaming, clapping, hollering container full of people.
– œCause we’re greedy, stealing bastards.’ Alice introduces her Crazy previously made special by Gnarls Barkley. This effort, with deep bass drums and vibrating violin wanders into jazz orchestral territory and sends shivers up the spines of all attending.

By the time Alice bids us thank you and farewell for the last time, with Turn It On, from her Pot of Gold record, she looks and sounds as fresh as when she started. We get one more chance to soul clap on Dressed to Impress, – œas you all are’ chirps the tiny lady, after which we traipse home exhausted, elated and totally in love with stellar soul voices.