Under appropriate conditions, the sun rises. Similarly, it seems just as
much of a truism these days to say that under appropriate conditions – i.e.
dwindling record sales, prolonged lack of media exposure and the ravages
inflicted upon a formerly young body by incalculable equipment load-outs at
suburban public houses – the fading indie rock star will go folk-country.
Some, like Tim Rogers, choose to rage against the dying of their rock by
checking in and out of “twang rehab” for lengthening periods. Others, like
former Jebediah frontman Kevin Mitchell, give themselves over to the
acoustic strumming and harmonica program body and soul, to the point of
adopting an alternate (though thinly fleshed out) persona – namely Bob
Evans. Thankfully, the results in this case are every bit as satisfying as
those of the former.

With the afternoon sun blazing into the small wooden alcove adjoining the
main Manning stage, Mitchell (sorry, I feel stupid using pseudonyms)
provides the perfect soundtrack to another sleepy undergraduate lunchtime,
showcasing tracks from his forthcoming album Suburban Songbook, as well as
those from its predecessor, Suburban Kid. The familiar nasal vocals are
still there, although with much less of the adolescent petulance that used
to grate on a lot of early Jebs material. The songs wear their
CSNY/Dylan/Cash heritage proudly, but contain the magic ingredient lacking
in the work of so many other copyists – a sense of humour. New single ‘Don’t
You Think It’s Time’ gets a run and has the feeling of a minor classic about
it, as do ‘Turn’ and ‘Rocks in My Head’.  The charmingly stupid ‘Ode To My
Car’ will bring a tear to the eye of shitbox drivers everywhere. We even get
a cover of ‘Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head’, which seems to remind a
couple in the audience what a great day it is outside. “Don’t go! I’ve got
other stuff…” Mitchell cries after their departing backs, breaking into an
impromptu acoustic version of Jebediah’s signature ‘Leaving Home’ to try and
entice them back, to chuckles from the crowd. “Remember `98..?” Yes Kev, but
we’re all better than that now; you in particular.