Augie March @ The Basement,Sydney (01/04/09)

Fri 3rd Apr, 2009 in Gig Reviews

Blame Nirvana. Their masterful Unplugged set for MTV led Bon Jovi, KISS, Korn and stacks of other imitators to believe that they too could bash out identical versions of their back catalogue on a battered old acoustic and earn respect as “serious artists” (better luck next time, Lenny Kravitz).

More often, acoustic sets reveal the limitations of two-dimensional songs, stripping away all the bells and whistles that disguise clumsy lyrics or dull chord progressions. In the right hands, though, a stripped-back arrangement can illuminate magic little details, or allow a familiar song to find new life. Luckily for the crowd at the Basement, the first Sydney show of Augie March’s On The Quiet tour proved time and again that Glenn Richards’ songwriting is rich with the sort of subtle beauty that would induce shivers of pleasure even when played on a rusty kazoo.

Playing an – œEclectic and Lowkeystic’ show offers a little more variety than a straight-out acoustic set, allowing multi-instrumentalist Kiernan Box and guitarist Adam Donovan to include slide guitar, harmonica, piano accordion and keyboards in the show. With Richards and bassist Edmondo Ammendola playing acoustics, and drummer Dave Williams behind the kit, the band was able to include a broader range of material in the set, offering frequent dynamic shifts to keep the set flowing.

Opening with the propulsive track The Glenorchy Bunyip, the rattling energy was palpable, threatening to collapse throughout but deftly held together. Though a stumbling tongue undid Richards momentarily in the climactic verse, only those familiar with the song would have understood the reason for his self-effacing grin.

Following an elegant rendition of Lupus, the band swung into the next track without a word, downplaying what would be a stand-out moment in an evening rich with highlights. At first the rhythm of the song seemed strange, but there was an air of familiarity about it. Soon Richards murmured “now should you expect to see something that you haven’t seen…”, causing a shudder of quiet joy to ripple through the room. Certainly Augie March’s most well-known song, here was One Crowded Hour, completely reinvented. The waltz time signature of the original was replaced with a simple 4/4 rhythm, shifting the mood from whimsical to meditative. Coupled with a more subtle arrangement, it lent an air of delicate melancholy, in keeping with the mournful lyric.

Though this was the most obvious change, the subtle variations on older songs offered their own thrills. Using a ukulele in place of a banjo on Sunstroke House created a dreamy effect, emphasised by cooing vocal harmonies. Meanwhile the brass, which appeared throughout the evening, brought a particular vintage warmth to the delightful Pennywhistle. A special note must be made of Little Wonder, delivered with genuine and moving pathos, rendered even more sharp by Richards’ wry, self-deprecating introduction.

An obvious perfectionist, Richards was visibly frustrated by the sound and lighting difficulties, and simultaneously embarrassed by his anger at such minor things. Though he seemed self-conscious, Richards’ sincerity and wit make him a compelling frontman for an understated band.

Though there certainly were hiccups in the course of the evening (playing the first verse of Heartbeat and Sails in the wrong key; tuning hassles plaguing their cover of the Kinks’ Days), they only served to endear Augie March to an audience who were already enamoured. It is in the unplanned moments that artists reveal the truth of themselves. Augie March need not fear those moments, because in their frailty, they are shown to be sincere and delightful people, and it is a pleasure to spend an evening in their company.