Jeff Martin And The Armada,Leroy Lee @ The Zoo, Brisbane(07/11/2009)

Wed 11th Nov, 2009 in Gig Reviews

This could be one of the easiest gig reviews in the world to write. A reviewer could focus on the key elements of the event which, regardless of the music, threatened to derail the gig and turn it into a farce: the sparse audience barely filling even a third of The Zoo’s cavern; the overall air of sad desperation which came with the permeation of over-excited fan-boys (and girls) working themselves into a gusset-wetting passion at being so close to their demi-God; and, finally, the man himself appearing as a mere caricature as he rehashed the same tired set list which has stuck with him during his numerous post-Tea Party guises. To focus on these things alone, however, would do some serious injustice to the very present and tangible skerricks of musical credibility which still hang like an aura around Jeff Martin, and which were very much on display as he once again re-invented himself – this time in a sit-down and mainly acoustic trio.
 
The unenviable task of trying to whet the appetites of the very small gathering of Tea Party dreamers was left to Triple J scenester Leroy Lee and his delicate strumming ways. Between the chatter and the squeaking oscillating metal fans there was however little hope of him breaking through. His looping guitar work was all that raised the eyes and lessened the dim of the conversation, with singles Mountain Song and Drawing Smoke from this unsigned hopeful sticking in the memory.
 
The first thing to notice of the Jeff Martin and The Armada ’s Line In The Sand tour is the impressive stage set up. A massive array of stringed and boxed instruments stood pride of place around the left side of the stage, only to be equally balanced by a massive stand-up percussion set up which boasted numerous congas, bongos, djembes and cymbals. The trio of Martin, percussionist extraordinaire Wayne Sheehy and multi-instrumentalist Jay Cortez began the set by hammering into a vortex of noise which eventually turned into album opener Morocco. The cautionary murderous tale was a stand out from the new album, surpassing everything Martin has tried to achieve since disbanding The Tea Party. Its Middle Eastern flavour was not just hinted at, but slapped everyone squarely in the face with Sheehy’s flailing hand percussion taking this song back to its roots and leaving its bombastic electronic cousin for dead.
 
It seemed the mood was set for a true sound reinvention and one of those mythical Jeff Martin gigs but hopes were dashed early on. After such a promising start, they immediately plummeted back to safer territory by cranking out two old standards – Edges Of Twilight’s Silence and Interzone Mantra’s Requim. Both have been regular songs in the repertoire and while they underwent some superficial sound surgery for this format, they portrayed no definite direction for tonight’s gig apart from satisfying the already converted’s lust. Try as he might, the majority of the tiny crowd just did not seem interested in anything from Jeff’s considerable catalogue since the ending of that seminal band. So much so, in fact, that numerous punters close to the stage, in varying levels of excited intoxication, were spotted physically turning around to converse with their friends rather than paying the artist due attention during the non-blockbuster moments.
 
The set wore on in very much the same fashion, as Martin struggled with a weakening voice and an almost perceptible loss of interest from the audience whenever anything new was played. The trio finished the set with the impressively demonic slide guitar of Black Snake Blues which managed to pay homage to both its acoustic origins from Martin’s solo album Exile In The Kingdom, as well the reprised electric version from new Armada album (with a dose of Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love thrown in for good measure).
 
With such a small audience, any pretense of an audience-demanded encore just added to the sad humour of the night, as the one or two piddling attempts of a rousing round of applause petered out almost as soon as they started. Unsurprisingly the trio ventured back out for a 2-song addition, which prompted easily the night’s most contrasting of high and low lights – Cortez’s intuitive guitar work underneath Martin’s acoustic on Splendor Solis’s In This Time outshone anything the other two musicians even attempted on the night. Its simplicity and honesty was at direct odds to the traditional set closer, Sister Awake, and its balls-out guitar and vocal wankery which had the gents in the audience actually attempting a mosh. The farce seemed complete when towards the end of the monumental track, Martin completely changed tempo and slid into 2 verses and a chorus of Joy Division’s Love Will Tear Us Apart.

Tonight’s show displayed an artist grappling between his seminal past and his ambitious future. And if that grappling sees the crowd turned away in droves as it did at for this gig at The Zoo, then that undoubtedly will be the saddest farce of all.