A rainy Friday night at the Annandale provided the perfect backdrop for a night of acoustic folk from some of Sydney’s favourite bands. On his second night at the Annandale Bob Evans played to a sold-out crowd of non-gig goers. I predict big things in his future.
Boundary Sounds stalwarts Wons Phreely played to a mostly empty room, which is a shame. The shaggy haired youngster was gently ironic, introducing songs about sex and vegetables with a nice deadpan. They moved like good folk-pop should, though the constant requests to dance were a bit futile. The lyrics were sharply observant, though, and the addition of keyboardist Jasper sent things in a slightly funkier direction. The overall impression was two shy, smart kids who kinda wanna tell you about sex and dancing but it’s okay if they don’t. I settled in for a night of perfect Freaks & Geeks folk.
The arrival of Bertie Blackman shattered those plans to smithereens. A packed crowd greeted her and the Annandale was full of bodies. It was different from the usual gig crowd – older, more suburban, with many obvious couples and ‘one gig a week’ types. I waited for the ballsy blues singer with the big guitar I remembered from a show ages ago only to be confronted with tiny blonde ‘Karen O’ and a full band.
Bertie’s band was good and loud, but the bass mostly drowned out her voice (her best asset). It was almost a blues/punk stomp, but nothing stood out beyond the occasional amazing guitar part or soul song from Bertie. It was a good band, but the style didn’t highlight the singer’s considerable talents.
Bob Evans took to the stage in a blue shirt, black vest and red rose. His guitar had stickers promoting himself; and his band included a flautist. He opened the set with his hit “Don’t You Think Its Time”. Its one of his strongest songs – gentle and slightly wistful. It was also a perfect crowd pleaser, and pleasing the crowd seemed to be Kevin Mitchell’s main goal. He played song after song of radio-ready pop-folk that wouldn’t sound out of place coming out of California in the 70s, somewhere between the Eagles and Dire Straits. There was a country stomp and a few catchy songs, but mostly things hovered between love, regret, and general good feeling.
The crowd ate it up, with many couples kissing and people dancing who looked like they only danced twice a year – New Year’s Eve and this show. Between songs Bob bantered about critics (“If this gets good reviews, send them to my mom”) and the country town where his sister got married (and he “wore the same suit he was wearing tonight”).
Halfway through the hour-long set things started to drag, as Bob’s bag of tricks was revealed to be pretty limited. The fans didn’t mind, though – they knew the words to most of the songs and brought him back for a long encore. This was topped by a fantastic, purely acoustic version of ‘Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head’. The pure pop harmonies showcased Bob’s voice and the songwriting was what he aspires to now: simple songs of love and parting and dancing.
