Passenger @ Jive, Adelaide(29/04/11)

Sun 1st May, 2011 in Gig Reviews

Jackson McLaren, 20, of Warrnambool, VIC. The crowd sit to watch; a beautiful face and childlike innocence, a left-handed guitar and harmonica, a velvety voice. And tunes which arguably begin to sound a tad repetitious by the end of the set. Throughout, he smiles, as if constantly ruminating over pleasant events of his past. It’s heart-warming to watch. Highlights include Oh My God I Know, At Least We See The Same Moon, Star and The Dancer That Sings.

Disclaimer: I am a little lost for words when I think back to the next set, but I’ll give it a go… Mike Rosenberg or Passenger (UK), as he’s otherwise known, enters. He rolls up his sleeves, to, quote, ‘get down to business’. Songs like The Last Unicorn bring the crowd to their knees. These tunes are a vehicle through which Mike conveys his every hope and dream, every disenchantment and lament, every personal victory and disappointment to his audience. Each song is a personal hymn I contentedly embrace.

A culturally-adapted version of his light-hearted tune about England’s shite weather elicits waves of laughter from the audience. I sometimes forget Mike isn’t a comic, for he has me in stitches after every tune with his quick wit and jovial personality. The set features several new tracks, including Let Her Go. With its pleading lyrics, tonight’s rendition of Golden Thread (originally recorded with Matt Corby) is unforgettable. The honesty it professes simply breaks your heart. Newbie Bullets comes with a story, one which splinters my heart and I’m unlikely to ever forget. It’s sung, in part, without a microphone, the surprising stillness of the crowd allowing for such a rare and beautiful occurrence. During Caravan, Mike requests that the audience whistle in unison with him, commenting that we sound like ‘angels’. The emotions rebounding off the four walls of Jive’s interior tonight are oh-so-gratifying.

Mike busts out a fine little tune aptly entitled I Hate. It’s a tongue-in-cheek outline of his pet hates and the audiences’ contribution becomes louder and louder in solidarity. Clearly, he’s not alone in despising Australian Idol or people who talk during sets. From 2010’s Flight Of The Crow (a collaboration with notable Australians including Lior, Josh Pyke, Boy & Bear, Philadelphia Grand Jury, etc), Rivers is played by request. The power of hearing Mike perform this live is indescribable. And from 2009’s Wide Eyes, Blind Love (his self-funded acoustic album) comes Rainbows also played by request. It pulls the audience in and softly caresses them, making them wholly glad to be a part of this. The crowd is appreciatively quiet during the softest of songs; I’m both astonished and thankful. The One You Love is dedicated to the couple in the crowd who were married to this tune; a gesture for which I’m sure they’d be eternally grateful. I See Love is truly beyond description.

Holes is a whole barrel full of fun, giving a whole new meaning to the term audience sing-a-long. I typically despise moments like this at gigs, but tonight, the air is thick with unity and it lacks pretension. Mike re-enters for an encore, offering the lyrically mischievous Cheeky Monkey, the tune’s infectious satire once again warming the room. It has a way of bringing a smile to the most sullen of faces. One man, Mike Rosenberg, possesses more charisma and humility than most entire bands I’ve experienced. I see every bead of sweat, hear his every breath, and feel his every conviction. I want to simultaneously laugh and cry. Adelaide has been blessed tonight, by a beautiful soul, with an even better voice.