Katie Noonan & The Captains @Hi Fi, Melbourne (18/06/2010)

Fri 2nd Jul, 2010 in Gig Reviews

There’s a familiar ma’am with raven curls standing in the corner of the staircase on her phone who flashes a casual smile at passers by who are making their way into the Hifi. Seemingly at ease, Katie Noonan almost blends into the crowd.

You’d expect an air of jazz schtick with a voice of this calibre. However, there’s an honesty about Noonan’s music that speaks to the soul. Striking in it’s convivial purity, Noonan articulates each phase and note as if she is merely breathing. Her voice has the sheer power to turn a brooding beefcake into a sensitive love-struck fool.

A tempered Friday mood lingers in the air as post-work punters and casually dressed twenty somethings sit on the floor of the HiFi. The scent of alcohol and musk tints the warmth of the dimly lit room. With decorative touches of a large tassled lamp strung from the ceiling of the stage, it almost feels like I have wandered into a crowded lounge room in suburbia for a late night soiree.

Time and Half In Water are tracks testament to the different aesthetic Noonan’s taken with her new band, The Captains. Wrapped in discordant percussion and off-kilter synths, some of these loose, more experimental verses tend to lack the synchronicity of George. Vocal somersaults and occasional scats offer a jazzy finesse, while finer pop moments parallel Tori Amos balladry.

While long time Noonan aficionados will be aware of eccentricities and different twists and turns in the latest record, her voice remains as personal as it has always been. Noonan lulls the audience into a sombre gaze with gentle breaks and that trademark falsetto that reaches a pitch that seems mortally impossible.

Noonan’s style has always encompassed an incredible sense of dexterity and guile. Approaching her music as a broad artform, it came to no surprise that two winning dancers from a competition the band ran through their facebook group, were enlisted to join the band on stage.

James Andrews rolled, stretched and swayed around in a pair of incredibly tight leather pants. While what I’ve described so far sounds like like an exerpt out of a Studio 54 bio, Andrews style was beautifully fluid. Still impressed as to how he managed to execute a flawless routine on a stage space that seemed no bigger than 1×2. Emerging out of the dimly lit tassled lamp hanging from the ceiling, Benjamin Hancock added an expressive depth to Litte Boys. Both dancers showed incredible promise and added another dimension to the Noonan’s languid narrative.

Sweet One (written with Sia Furler), a gentle pop ballad about Noonan’s strong friendship with a close mate moved the room and utilized more of her lesser used mid-range vocals. After the Rain once again exposes Noonan’s dynamic tendencies, turning a quiet reflective waltz into a sudden soaring crescendo that falls and bears it’s full force with falling minor key embellishments and grappling string parts.

There’s always that moment when you hear a song for the first time, and something about it moves you to the core. Stripped back of overbearing production trimmings, Gladness hits you with a mixed sense of sombre void but overwhelming elation at the same time. Written with Tim Finn, there’s a hint of that trademark Finn brothers flavour with intriguing twists and refrains anchored in the body of a complex melody.

In an interview, Noonan once said that “when people come up and tell me that a particular song of mine means something to their life – that is the ultimate reward.”

Watching Gladness was something I’ll remember for a long while. It was was touching to have the pared-down essence of a voice and a piano bring you closer to people who seem so far away. So to Katie Noonan, I say thank you.